Can't Repeat the Past
by dhawthorne
Summary: A sequel to "A Teacher or a Leader". The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie fanfic. Jean and Teddy deal with the aftermath of his three-year trip to Europe.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

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A/N: The sequel to my fic "A Teacher or a Leader". This fic is dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie. Please read and review!

* * *

The morning after Teddy returned, Jean woke up first. She looked down at her sleeping husband, overwhelmed with love for him. She gently pushed a lock of hair off his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. She placed a light kiss on his forehead, and he stirred slightly, opening his eyes.

"Good morning, Teddy," she said.

"Good morning, Jean," he said, and she leaned down to kiss him. He pulled back from her a few moments later, and she looked down at him, confused.

"What's wrong?" she asked. He avoided her gaze.

"Nothing's wrong," he lied.

She didn't believe him, but did not push him for an answer. She knew that he would tell her in his own time.

"I'll get dressed and wake Duncan," she said.

"All right," he replied, getting out of bed. Jean turned to the wardrobe and dressed quickly, turning back to her husband.

"I'll get Duncan now; when you're dressed, will you come down for breakfast?" she asked him tentatively. He nodded. "I'm glad you're home, Teddy," she said.

"As am I," he said. Jean gave him a brief smile before exiting their bedroom. She walked down the hallway to their son's room. He was awake, sitting up in bed.

"Good morning, Mummy," he said.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said. "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

"Yes, I did," he replied.

"Let's get dressed, hmm? It's almost time for breakfast," she told him, turning to his dresser and taking out a short-sleeved oxford shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. Jean helped Duncan to dress, and then they walked hand-in-hand downstairs.

"Good morning, Duncan," Teddy said when they entered the dining room. Duncan buried his face in his mother's skirts. Jean knelt down to look in her son's eyes.

"Duncan, what's wrong?" she asked. "It's your father."

"I know," he whispered.

"Then what's wrong?" she whispered back.

"I don't know," he said.

"It'll be fine, darling," she said, straightening up. "Ready for breakfast?"

He nodded, and Jean picked him up, settling him in his highchair.

"What do you want for breakfast, sweetheart?"

"Eggs and bacon, please, Mummy," he replied. Jean smiled at him and prepared his plate. She set it in front of him and prepared her own breakfast.

"Duncan began learning to read a few months ago, Teddy," Jean said.

"Really?" Teddy said. "I am so proud of you, Duncan," he told his son, who blushed and looked down.

"Duncan, why don't you tell your father about our trip to the beach?"

"We went swimming in the ocean," Duncan replied. "And we went on a boat ride too."

"That's wonderful," Teddy said. "When did you go?" he asked, turning to Jean.

Two months ago," she replied.

Jean continued to prompt Duncan into speaking with his father throughout breakfast. Poor Duncan was so nervous around his father, not used to any man but Edward being in his life. Teddy tried to engage him in conversation, but Duncan was too uncomfortable to really say anything.

Breakfast was finally over, and Jean rang the bell. Cornelia entered and began to clear away the dishes, while Teddy, Jean, and Duncan retired to the living room.

"What would you like to do today, Teddy?" Jean asked, their son on her lap.

"Duncan, why don't you decide?" Teddy suggested.

"I want to go to the park," Duncan decided.

"All right," Jean said. "Teddy, will you get the stroller from the hall closet?" she asked him, and he nodded. "I'll be right back, darling," she said, kissing her son's forehead lightly. Going upstairs, she packed up a bag with a few of Duncan's books, a blanket, and a few pillows. She went downstairs and rejoined her husband and son.

"Ready?" she asked, and her husband nodded. Jean set the bag down and picked Duncan up, settling him in his stroller. "Will you carry the bag, please?" she asked her husband, and he nodded, picking it up. She opened the door and pushed the stroller outside. Teddy followed her, and closed the door behind him.

They walked the two blocks to the park, and when they arrived, Jean and Teddy spread out the blanket near the pond. Once the blanket was laid out, Jean took Duncan out of his stroller.

"Do you want to show your daddy how well you can read, Duncan?" Jean asked, and Duncan looked up at her nervously. "Go on, dear," she said. "I'll help you."

"Okay," Duncan agreed.

"Why don't you pick out a book?" Jean suggested. She stacked up the pillows and patted the space on the blanket next to her; Teddy joined her, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as he leaned back against the pillows. Duncan walked back to them, holding a copy of "The Story of Babar".

"It's my favourite book," Duncan told his father, handing him the book so that he could settle himself on Jean's lap. He took the book back when he was seated with his mother. Jean held one side of the book and Teddy held the other side.

Duncan began to read. "In the great forest, an ele-elephant is born. His n-name is Babar. His mother loves him very much. She rocks him to sleep with her trunk wh-whylie," Duncan stopped, looking up at his mother.

"While," she said.

"While singing softly to him," he finished the first page.

"Very good, Duncan!" Teddy said, very proud of his son.

"Thank you, Daddy," Duncan replied, blushing.

Duncan read the next two pages, then stopped.

"Mummy, can you finish the book please?" he asked.

"Of course, Duncan. You are doing so well," she said. She took up the story, and they finished the book. After finishing the book, Jean and Teddy packed up their things. They walked back to their house.

"I've got to run to the post office, Jean," Teddy said when they arrived back at the house.

"All right," she said, a bit confused to why he would need to go to the post office so soon after his return to Australia. What could he possibly have to mail?

"I'll see you in a bit, then, dear," he said, kissing her cheek lightly. He walked down the street to the post office.

Jean and Duncan settled in the parlour, Duncan snuggled in her lap. She began to read "The Tale of Peter Rabbit." They finished "Peter Rabbit" and then started on "The Tale of Benjamin Bunny". Lunch was served just after they had finished the second book, and still Teddy had not returned. After lunch, she brought Duncan upstairs for his nap, and Teddy was still out. Jean sat in the window seat of the front room and waited for her husband to come back.

Three hours later, her son had woken up, and Teddy had not reappeared. Jean and Duncan were sitting at the coffee table in the parlour when Teddy finally returned, five hours after he had left.

"Duncan, sweetheart, stay here and practice your writing while your father and I talk for a moment, all right?" she asked, and he nodded, utterly absorbed in practising his name. Jean stood up and led Teddy upstairs to their room.

"Where were you, Teddy?" she asked him.

"I got lost," he lied. In reality, he had gone to meet up with one of the women who had been on the ship with him, a woman named Isabelle Coleman. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and large grey eyes. She was tall and slender, though she had more than ample curves. She had seen his exhibition in London when she was there on holiday, and, when she discovered that he was on board the same ship coming back to Australia, she seduced him. When they returned to Australia and to their real life, they had made arrangements to meet once a week at her house.

He could see that she did not believe him, but she dropped the subject.

"It's time for tea," she said, and walked downstairs.

Later that night, after Jean and Teddy had tucked their son in to bed, they went to bed themselves. While Jean went to the bathroom to brush her hair, Teddy crawled between the covers. Though they had made love last night, he had not had the time to think over her confession. Now, though, he had time to think it over, and he could not bear to be near his wife, knowing that his cousin had slept with her. He could not bear the thought of his cousin and his wife sleeping together.

Jean entered the bedroom and sat down on the bed next to Teddy.

"I've missed you, Teddy," she said, stroking his chest.

"I've missed you too, Jean," he said, kissing her forehead lightly. "Good night."

"Good night?" she asked him confusedly. "Don't you want to...?"

"I'm exhausted, Jean," he told her.

"Oh," she replied, hurt. "Good night, then."

He rolled over on his side and fell asleep immediately. For Jean, however, sleep was elusive. Finally, she got out of bed and walked down the hall to check on her son. He was sleeping peacefully, and, not wanting to disturb him, she went downstairs to the parlour. Sitting on the couch, she began to cry. She knew in her heart that Teddy had not accepted the fact that she had begun an affair with Edward. She suspected, too, that he had not been at the post office, but with a woman. If this was how it was going to be, then she did not know if she wanted Teddy back. She finally cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Things were even more strained between Teddy and Jean when Edward returned from Canberra. Teddy was barely civil to his cousin. Things were also on edge between Teddy and Duncan, as Duncan wanted to spend all of his free time with Edward, not Teddy. Teddy was hurt, but knew that it was his fault for abandoning his family for nearly three years. Despite his guilt, he made no real effort to integrate himself into his son's life, and he continued to sleep with various women.

Four months after Teddy returned, it was Duncan's third birthday. Jean had planned an outing to the zoo for them, and then a picnic lunch at the park. Teddy only stayed for their trip to the zoo, excusing himself before they went to the park for lunch. Jean was bitterly disappointed in her husband, but tried not to show it. Duncan did not mind his father's absence so much, as Edward was there. After lunch, Jean and Edward brought Duncan back to the house so that he could open his presents.

Duncan received several plush animals from Edward; a train set from Teddy (Jean had bought it and wrapped it; Teddy had forgotten to buy a present); and Jean had bought him several books. The cook had baked a special cake for his birthday, and Edward, Jean, and the maids sang to him before he blew out the candles.

"Happy birthday, darling," Jean said. "I love you."

"Happy birthday, Duncan," Edward added.

After the cake, Jean brought Duncan up to bed and read him one of his new books before he settled down for a nap. Jean went downstairs and joined Edward in the parlour.

"Jean, I saw Teddy kissing another woman yesterday," he said.

"I suspected that he was cheating on me," she said. "He has been sleeping with hordes of women – all over Europe, and now in Australia too. Oh, God, Edward, if it's going to be like this, then I don't want him here!" she began to cry, leaning against his chest.

"I'll always be here for you, Jean," he said soothingly, stroking her hair as she cried. She composed herself and pulled back.

"I don't think that it would help matters with Teddy if he walked in and found me in your arms," she chuckled weakly.

"I'd best go, then," he said. "But remember, Jean – I'll always be here for you. Let me know if you need anything at all."

She shot him a faint, yet grateful, smile. "Thank you, Edward."

He kissed her lightly on the forehead and, turning around when he reached the front door, blew her a kiss. She blew one back, and then he left.

Turning back to the table, she saw a letter propped up on the table, addressed to her. She opened it with trembling fingers.

My dearest, most darling Jean,

My time in Canberra has allowed me the opportunity to think about our relationship. It is very clear to me that you are the one true love of my life, and I know in my heart that I will never love anyone else. I know that you are still in love with Teddy, but know that I will wait for you. And even if you decide never to come back to me, I will always love you and will always be there for you. I love you so much, Jean – and I love Duncan, too. I don't think that I could love him more if he was my own son. I would do anything to help the two of you. Never hesitate to let me know if there is anything that I can do.

I love you, Jean.

Edward

She set the letter down and burst into tears once more. Her heart ached for her Edward, her rock, her strength. She loved him, but she loved Teddy more.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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Thank you to all my readers and reviewers, especially kissofdeath, KristaMarie, and tabbyhearts.

As always, this story is dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

The lullaby in this chapter is called "Scottish Lullaby"; the lyrics were written by Sir Walter Scott.

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While Jean and Edward were celebrating Duncan's birthday, Teddy was with his lover, Isabelle Coleman. He spent most of the day there with her, including dinner. After leaving Isabelle, he went to a bar and had a few drinks, and finally stumbled home at one o'clock in the morning. Jean was waiting for him downstairs.

"Where have you been?" she demanded.

"I was out," he defended himself.

"Why were you not even here for your son's birthday?" she questioned him.

"I was!" he replied.

"For not even two hours!" she snapped. "Do you really care so little about your family?"

"Of course I care about our family, Jean – do you?" he asked her.

"I care a sight more than you do, Teddy! I was there for Duncan, I provided him with a home, with love, with a good life!"

"You slept with Edward!" he yelled.

"At least Edward was there for us! At least Edward cared enough to treat our son like his own! At least he loved me!" she cried.

"But how could you?" he shouted.

"How could you? You're the one who slept with nearly every woman in Europe!"

They did not know that their shouting had woken Duncan, who was sitting on the stairs, watching them with wide eyes.

"Now I know how Deirdre felt," Jean snapped. "I thought that things would be different with us, Teddy. I thought that you loved me! I thought that you loved your son!"

"I do, Jean – I do!" he protested.

"Then act like it!" she told him, spinning on her heel. She stopped dead when she saw Duncan sitting on the steps, tears in his eyes. "Duncan, darling, what are you doing up?" she said, approaching him. He stretched out his arms to his mother, who bent down to pick him up.

"Mummy, why are you and Daddy fighting?" he asked, crying.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's nothing," she soothed him, resting her cheek against his head. She rocked him back and forth slowly. "Let's bring you up to bed," she said, walking up the stairs to Duncan's room.

She laid him down in bed.

"Mummy, why was Daddy yelling at you?" he asked her.

She smiled sadly down at her son. "Sometimes, darling, even when two people love each other very much, they can disagree."

"Daddy scares me, Mummy," he said, and Jean's heart broke.

"Don't be scared of your father, sweetheart," she said, stroking his hair. "You just don't know him very well. He's a good person, and he loves you so very much."

"Really, Mummy?" he asked.

"Yes, really," she said. "Now, darling, try to go to sleep. It's late."

"All right," he said. She smiled down at him and kissed his forehead lightly.

"I love you, Duncan," she said. "Happy birthday."

"Will you sing me a lullaby, Mummy?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied, and crooned softly to him as she stroked his hair.

"Blow, the wind blow;

Swift and low;

Blow the wind o'er the ocean.

Breakers rolling to the coastline;

Bringing ships to the harbour;

Gulls against the morning sunlight;

Flying off to freedom!"

As she finished the song, she looked down at her son, who had dropped off to sleep. She kissed his forehead lightly and left the room. She walked back downstairs to join her husband.

"I'm going up to bed, Teddy. You can join me if you'd like. I don't wish to talk about this any more tonight," she said, and walked up to their bedroom.

A few minutes later, Teddy, too, walked upstairs, but instead of joining his wife in their bedroom, he opened the door to one of the guest rooms and fell asleep.

Jean lay awake in bed, waiting for her husband to come to bed, but she knew that he would not be joining her. She slipped out of bed and went to the study to write a letter to Edward. On her way downstairs, she noticed the door to the guest room was cracked open, and she peered in. Her husband was sleeping on the bed. She quietly stepped out of the room and continued down to the study. Sitting down at the desk, she began a letter to Edward.

Dearest Edward,

I wish that Teddy had never come back from Europe. He finally returned at one o'clock in the morning, and he smelled like perfume and alcohol. He would not tell me where he was. We had a big row tonight, and Duncan saw the end of it. Oh, my poor son; my poor, poor son. He told me that he was scared of Teddy. Edward, it just about broke my heart – my son is scared of his father. My darling, darling boy is scared of his own father! But the worst part about it is that I am scared of him, too – I'm scared of my husband. I've never been scared of him before, Edward, but when he was shouting at me, I was terrified. I miss you, Edward; even though you are so close to me, you are so far away, too.

I love you, Edward.

Jean.

She stuck the letter in an envelope and sealed it. She wrote Edward's address on the letter and stamped it, before placing it in the pile of outgoing mail. She yawned, stretching, as she walked back up the stairs. Climbing into bed, she fell asleep almost instantly.

Only a few short hours later, she was woken up by her son crawling into bed to join her.

"Good morning, darling," she said, her voice husky with sleep. "Did you sleep well?"

He yawned. "No, Mummy," he said drowsily. "I had a bad nightmare. Can I sleep here?" he asked.

She kissed his forehead lightly. "Of course, darling," she said, pulling the covers over them both.

They drifted off to sleep again.

They woke up at nine o'clock, and, as a treat, Jean let Duncan have breakfast in his pyjamas. While he went down for breakfast, Jean went to the guest room to see if Teddy was awake. He was not in the guest room. She went downstairs and looked in the closet, and his coat wasn't there either. Sighing, she joined her son for breakfast.

* * *

Three months passed, and it was Jean and Teddy's fourth wedding anniversary. Teddy had forgotten all about it, and he spent the day with his new paramour, Kathleen O'Connor. Edward did not forget, however, and he and Duncan arranged a surprise for Jean. They planned a special dinner for her, and Duncan picked some flowers from their garden for a bouquet for his mother. He also made her a card and drew a picture of their family for her – Jean, Edward, Teddy, and himself. Edward had had it framed for her. The maids helped to decorate the parlour and the dining room while Edward and Duncan went to the park with Jean to keep her out of the house before their small party.

When they returned to the house, it was decorated with streamers, balloons, and a large banner which read "Happy Anniversary". Jean was overwhelmed with gratitude, so much so that she actually cried. It seemed to her that she had cried more often in the past few months than she had in all her life.

"Thank you, Duncan; thank you, Edward," she said, smiling up at them.

"Happy anniversary, Mummy," her son said.

"Thank you, darling," she said, kissing her son lightly on the forehead. "This dinner looks delicious – why don't we start eating?" she suggested.

They sat down and ate their dinner; then the maids brought in a cake. "Happy Anniversary!" it read. Jean smiled at the two of them and cut the cake, handing a slice to both Edward and Duncan, before cutting a slice for herself.

"Why don't we eat the cake on the porch?" Edward suggested, and Jean nodded. The three of them walked out onto the front porch. They ate their cake there, and, when they had finished, Duncan and Edward brought the plates in. Jean looked out onto the street, and spied her husband walking down the road, a tall, voluptuous blonde on his arm. They stopped under the streetlight on the corner, and she watched as her husband kissed the other woman.

She rushed back into the house, not wanting Teddy to see her. She ran into Edward and Duncan, who were about to join her outside.

"What's wrong, Jean?" Edward asked her. Her face was deathly pale, her lower lip was trembling, and her large blue eyes were filled with tears.

"Let's go into the parlour," she said. Edward raised his eyebrows, but he and Duncan followed her without questioning her. Jean rang the bell and Cornelia came in. "Can you bring us some tea please, Cornelia?" She nodded and returned a few minutes later, carrying a tea tray. Jean poured the tea with shaking hands.

A few minutes later, Teddy walked in, quite inebriated.

"Hello, everyone!" Teddy sang out. He noticed the balloons and streamers. "What's the occasion?"

"Our anniversary," Jean said.

"Oh," Teddy said. "Any chance of my getting a cup of tea?"

Jean poured Teddy a cup of tea.

"I'll be going," Edward said. "Good night, Jean, Duncan, Teddy," he said.

Duncan jumped up and gave Edward a hug; he swung the boy up into his arms and kissed his forehead.

"Good night, Edward," Jean said. He smiled at her and set Duncan down.

"Good night, Uncle Eddy," Duncan said. Edward ruffled his hair fondly and left.

Jean stood up. "Time for your bath, Duncan," Jean said.

"All right," he said.

"Go on ahead, dear – I'll be right there," she told her son. He nodded and walked up the stairs.

"I'll be back downstairs in an hour, Teddy – we need to talk," she said.

"All right," Teddy replied.

Jean walked up the stairs after her son and went into the bathroom to draw his bath.

An hour later, as promised, Jean went back downstairs. Her husband was asleep on the sofa, looking much the same as he did nearly ten years ago when they first spent the night together. Her heart was filled to overflowing with love for her husband, despite all the pain he had caused her in the past few years. She joined him on the couch, stroking his hair out of his eyes. He stirred, catching her hand in his, and brought it to his lips. Opening his eyes, he smiled up at her, and pulled her down for a kiss. She knew that he was still drunk – she could taste the alcohol on his breath – but it had been so long since he had touched her, so long since he had kissed her, so long since they had made love, that she stopped thinking and gave herself up to the moment.

"I'm sorry that I forgot about our anniversary, Jean," he said, caressing her cheek. He continued to kiss her, and she responded, her lips moving against his. Soon they had both shed their clothes, and Teddy was on top of her, guiding his erection into her. Once again, he captured her lips with his to muffle their moans. She began to come, clutching his back, moaning into his mouth. He collapsed on top of her as he came as well, panting from exertion.

"I love you, Teddy," she whispered, smiling up at him.

"I love you, Jean," he replied.

"Shall we go up to bed?" she asked. He nodded and stood up. He clutched at his head as he stood. "Are you all right, Teddy?" she asked him.

"Just give me a minute," he said, sitting down on the couch. She nodded and got dressed. Teddy stood up slowly and slipped on his trousers, gathering up the rest of his clothes, before taking Jean's hand. "Let's go to bed," he said.

She nodded and followed him up the stairs. He stumbled a few times, but they finally entered their bedroom. Both Jean and Teddy changed into their pyjamas and then climbed into bed.

For the first time in months, Jean slept in her husband's arms.

* * *

During the next few weeks, Teddy began painting again. He found a studio five blocks away from the house, and set it up just like his studio in Edinburgh. Setting up his studio allowed him a legitimate excuse to spend hours away from home – it also allowed him a place to entertain his female companions.

* * *

Almost a year after his return, Jean found him kissing yet another woman; one with dark brown curly hair. That night, when he returned to the house, he and Jean had another row.

"Teddy, we can't go on like this," she said. "I know that you are sleeping with other women, and I can't live like this."

"Go back to Edward, then," he spat.

"Teddy, I love you," she said. "And I don't want you cheating on me anymore. Please, darling, try to see it from my point of view – by cheating on me, you are saying that I cannot satisfy your needs. I need you, Teddy – I need you so much. I need your love, your affection... I need you. If you cheat on me again, Teddy, I will go back to Edward."

"Jean..." he said, reaching out to caress her cheek. She pulled back. "Jean, I am sorry."

"Don't apologise, Teddy; just don't do it again," she told him.

* * *

Over the next three months, Teddy stayed faithful to Jean, spending much more time at home with her and their son, though he still spent most days at the studio. He did, however, spend nearly every night at home with his wife. During those three months, Teddy tried not to think about the fact that his cousin and his wife had had an affair, though he was not very successful. The only time he could forget was when he drank, and drink he did. Only when he was inebriated did he feel comfortable making love to his wife.

But he could not go on deluding himself forever, and finally he began to cheat on her again. He couldn't help himself – that was the only way he knew to put his wife and his cousin's betrayal out of his mind.

Jean knew that their happiness from the past three months was too good to last, so she was not terribly surprised when Teddy began spending nights at the studio again. At least he had stopped drinking so much.

Two months after Teddy had begun another affair, two months after Duncan's fourth birthday, Jean discovered that she was pregnant again. She did not know what to do. Edward was away in Canberra the week she discovered that she was once again with child. Utterly, completely desperate, she wrote to him.

Dearest Edward,

I love Teddy, but I don't like him very much when he drinks. It is even worse than when he was away in Europe, because then I could be with you. Edward, why does he have to be like this? I need him to be strong for me, for Duncan... And, Edward, I am pregnant again. I need him to be here for our new baby, but I want him to be here because he wants to be. The problem is that I don't think he does want to be here with me and Duncan. Edward, I just don't know what to do. And I don't know what I would do without you.

I love you,

Jean

As soon as Edward returned, he went to find Jean. She threw herself into his arms, crying.

"Edward, I don't know what to do," she sobbed. "He doesn't love me anymore, doesn't want me anymore. I need him so much, Edward!"

"Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry," he said, stroking her hair as she cried. She finally stopped crying and sat up.

"Thank you, Edward," she said.

"You're welcome, Jean," he replied, kissing her forehead lightly.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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Thank you to my readers and reviewers: mccoylover, KristaMarie, kissofdeath, and tabbyhearts.

As always, this story is dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

* * *

Edward left a few minutes later, just after Duncan had woken up from his nap.

"I'll see you tomorrow, my darling," he said.

"All right," she said. She stretched up to kiss his lips lightly. "I love you."

"And I love you, Jean," he replied. "Don't worry, love; everything will work out for the best."

"I hope so," she said. "I do hope so."

She smiled sadly at him and walked up the stairs to her son's room.

"Did you have a nice nap, sweetheart?" she asked.

"Yes, I did, Mummy," he replied. "Is Uncle Eddy back yet?" he asked.

"Yes, he is," she replied. "He'll come over tomorrow."

"Yay!" Duncan exclaimed.

"Would you like to go to the park before dinner?" Jean asked.

"Oh, yes!" he exclaimed.

"Let's get ready, then," she said. A half an hour later, after getting ready, Jean and her son left the house, they walked the few blocks to the park. As they entered the park, Jean saw her husband and the curly-haired brunette woman she had seen with him several months ago. Shocked, Jean stood there, motionless, while Duncan pulled at her hand.

"Is that Daddy?" he asked her. She pulled herself out of her trance.

"Let's go, Duncan," she said quietly. He continued to stand there, staring at his father and his father's lover. "Now, Duncan!" she commanded him. He tried to keep up with her long strides, but it was no use. She picked him up and all but ran the few blocks to their house.

"Who was that lady with Daddy?" Duncan asked.

"I don't know," Jean said, starting to cry.

"Mummy, please don't cry!" he begged her.

"I can't help it, darling," she said between her tears.

"What can I do?" her son asked her, concerned. He had very rarely seen his mother cry.

"I'm fine; I'm fine," she said, stifling her tears. She gave him a watery smile as if to prove she was fine. "Now, why don't we have an early dinner?" she suggested. "We can help the cook tonight."

"All right," he said.

"You go on in, darling, and tell the cook that we will be helping with dinner; I'll be there in a moment," she said.

"Okay. I love you, Mummy," he said, kissing her on the cheek. She gave him a small smile, kissing him on the cheek as well. He walked into the kitchen, and Jean sat on the couch, composing herself. She entered the kitchen a few minutes later.

"So, what are we having for dinner tonight, dear?" she asked her son.

"Spaghetti and meatballs, Mummy," he replied.

"Wonderful," she said. "What can I do?"

"Can you do the sauce, please, Mummy?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. A half an hour later, they had finished making dinner, and Jean and Duncan ate in the kitchen for once, not wanting the maids to have to go to the extra trouble.

Jean gave the cook and the maids the rest of the night off, and she and Duncan washed the dishes themselves.

"Why don't we go out and get a scoop of ice cream?" Jean said.

"Really?" Duncan said, jumping up and down with excitement.

"Really. Let's go," she said. Taking her purse from the hall table, they walked out their front door and headed to the small ice cream cafe two streets over.

Duncan got a scoop of chocolate ice cream, while Jean got a scoop of vanilla. They sat down at one of the small round tables outside to enjoy their ice cream. Once they were finished, Jean and Duncan walked home.

"Time for your bath, Duncan," she said once they had returned.

"All right," he agreed.

"I'll start the bath if you get your pyjamas," she said, and he nodded.

After his bath, Jean tucked her son in to bed.

"Duncan, darling, always remember that, whatever happens, your father and I love you," she said.

"I love you too, Mummy," he said.

"Good night, my darling," she said, kissing his forehead lightly.

"Good night, Mummy," he said.

"Sleep well," she said, giving him one last kiss on his forehead before she stood to turn off the lights.

"Mummy?" he asked her.

"Yes, darling?"

"What's going to happen with you and Daddy?" he asked her.

"I don't know, Duncan – I really don't. Good night," she said, turning off the lights.

She went back downstairs and sat on the couch, utterly and completely alone. She began to cry, burying her face in the pillows of the couch to stifle the sound of her sobs. Five years ago, she never would have believed that she would be where she was today – but here she was – no longer a teacher, but the mother of one child with another on the way; the wife of the man she loved more than anything, but who did not love her nearly as much; and desperately, desperately alone.

She heard the door shut, and she stood up. Her husband came in to the parlour.

"Oh, Jean! I thought that you'd be asleep," he said.

"We need to talk, Teddy," she said.

"Can't it wait until the morning?" he asked her. "It's late."

"No, Teddy, we need to talk now," she said firmly. "I know that you've been cheating on me again, and I'm not going to let you do this to our family anymore, Teddy! You're not a good role model for Duncan, you're abandoning us, and you're not behaving like a husband and father! Teddy, I can't take this anymore, especially with the baby coming..." she stopped, clapping her hands over her mouth. She hadn't meant to tell him about the baby, hadn't wanted the baby to be a factor in this argument.

"A baby?" he asked, his eyes full of happiness. "Oh, Jean, a baby?"

"Yes," she replied. In for a penny, in for a pound, after all. "I'm due in November."

"Oh, Jean, darling!" he shouted, picking her up and spinning her around. "Oh, my darling, darling wife!"

"Teddy," she said when he put her down. She wanted to make her point clear. "I want you to stay faithful to me – for my sake, for our family's sake."

"Of course, darling," he said, kissing her. "I love you."

"I love you too, Teddy," she said.

"Let's go to bed, hmm?" he suggested, and she nodded. They walked up the stairs to their bedroom, his arm wrapped around her waist.

When they entered their bedroom, he drew her into a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Jean," he said.

She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "I love you, too, Teddy," she replied.

He caressed her cheek lightly. "Let's go to bed, shall we?" he said.

She nodded. "Just let me get changed," she said, and he nodded. She opened the top drawer of her dresser and pulled out a nightgown, then entered the bathroom to change. A few moments later, she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a simple white silk nightgown. Teddy had stripped down to his boxers and was waiting for her in bed.

She climbed into bed beside him, smiling nervously.

"I love you, Jean," he said, kissing her lips lightly.

"I love you, Teddy," she replied.

He wrapped his arms around her and she melted into his embrace. Resting her head against his chest, she let the sound of his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Teddy was woken up by the sound of his wife vomiting in the bathroom. He rushed in and held back her hair. A few minutes later, she stopped vomiting and collapsed on the floor of the bathroom. Her husband picked her up and brought her back to bed.

"Thank you, Teddy," she said, smiling weakly. She leaned back against the pillows, looking pale and faint.

He was overcome with a surge of guilt as he looked at his wife, who, resting against the pillows, seemed as delicate and fragile as a porcelain doll. He noticed, for the first time, that she had lost some weight – her cheekbones were more pronounced, her face was gaunt, and her eyes seemed larger than ever. He knew that he had done that to her – his infidelity had hurt her much more than he had imagined, and it obviously hurt her more than her infidelity had hurt him. He made a vow then and there that he would forget about her affair with Edward and try to start again.

"Jean, I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching out to caress her cheek. "I am sorry."

"It's all right, Teddy," she said.

"No, it isn't," he said. "Oh, God, Jean – I am sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me?" he asked.

"I already have, Teddy," she said, holding his hand against her cheek.

"I love you, Jean," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she replied. He kissed her lightly. "Let's go down to breakfast," she said.

"All right, darling," he said. She climbed out of bed and went to the wardrobe. She pulled out a blue dress and went to the bathroom to get changed. Teddy got dressed as well. Jean emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later.

"I'll get Duncan," Jean said.

"All right," he said.

"I'll see you down at breakfast," she said, smiling at him a bit awkwardly.

"All right, darling," he said, kissing her lightly. She left the room and walked down the hall to her son's room.

Duncan was already dressed, and was sitting in the window seat, reading.

"Good morning, darling," Jean said, smiling at him.

"Good morning, Mummy," he replied, looking up from his book.

"Ready for breakfast?" she asked.

"Yes, Mummy," he said, setting down his book.

They walked downstairs and joined Teddy for breakfast.

"Good morning, Duncan," Teddy said. He stood up to pull out his wife's chair, and she smiled up at him.

"Mummy, are you and Daddy still fighting?" Duncan asked.

"No, darling, we're not," Jean said. "And, Duncan, we have something to tell you," she said, smiling at her son. Teddy took her hand, smiling at his wife.

"Yes, Mummy?" Duncan asked.

"You're going to be a big brother in November," Jean said.

"Really?" Duncan asked excitedly.

"Yes, Duncan," Teddy said.

"Am I going to have a baby brother or a baby sister?" he asked.

Jean smiled indulgently. "We don't know yet, darling," she said. "We won't know until the baby is born."

"But that's so far away!" Duncan exclaimed, pouting a bit.

"I'm sorry, Duncan," she chuckled.

They finished their breakfast soon afterwards, despite Duncan continuing to pepper his parents with questions about the baby.

After breakfast, Jean, Teddy, and Duncan went for a walk in the park. Jean was the happiest she had been for years – happier than she had been since they had married. Her heart was full to bursting with the love she held for her husband, her son, and her unborn child. Life was wonderful.

Later that night, Teddy tucked his son in to bed. Jean was not feeling very well, so she was in bed.

"Daddy?" Duncan asked.

"Yes, Duncan?"

"Who was that lady you were with yesterday?" he asked.

"Wh-what?" Teddy stammered. "Where?"

"At the park," Duncan said.

"Just a friend," Teddy said. "Now, it's time for you to go to sleep," he said. "Good night."

"Good night, Daddy," Duncan said.

Teddy stood up and turned off the lights, then walked down the hallway to his bedroom. Jean was not in bed; he could hear her throwing up noisily in the bathroom. Once more, he rushed in and held her hair back, and when she had finished throwing up, he picked her up and brought her into the bedroom.

"Jean, I am so sorry," he said.

"Why?" she asked him faintly, leaning back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

"Duncan told me that you two were at the park yesterday," Teddy said.

Her eyes opened. "Yes, we were," she replied.

"I'm sorry, Jean; I'm so sorry," he said.

"Oh, Teddy, please don't let's talk about this anymore," she told him. "It's all right."

"Jean..."

"Please, Teddy – I'm not feeling well," she said.

"All right, darling," he said.

Suddenly, she sat straight up and bolted to the bathroom, where she began to throw up again. Ten minutes later, Teddy carried her back to bed.

"I'll be right back, darling," he said, and went downstairs. He returned a few minutes later with a basin, which he set on the nightstand. "In case you need to get up in the middle of the night," he explained.

"Thank you," Jean said.

"Jean, have you seen a doctor?" he asked her.

"Yes, I have," she said. "His name is Dr. Malden."

"And is the baby all right?" he asked.

"Yes, he said that the baby was fine," Jean asked. "Why?"

"When you were pregnant with Duncan, you were not nearly as sick as you are now," he explained.

"I'm fine," she said stubbornly.

"Jean, you've lost a lot of weight as well," he said sadly.

"I'm fine," she repeated.

"Please, Jean, indulge me – let's make an appointment with the doctor," he said.

"All right," she acquiesced. "We'll make an appointment in the morning."

"Good," he said.

She yawned and snuggled back against the pillows, closing her eyes.

"Good night, darling," he said, kissing her forehead lightly.

She opened her eyes sleepily. "Good night, Teddy," she replied, and closed her eyes again. "I love you."

"And I love you, Jean," he said. "I love you."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

* * *

As always, this story is dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

Thank you to my readers and reviewers: tabbyhearts, kissofdeath, and KristaMarie.

* * *

A week later, Jean and Teddy were sitting in Dr. Malden's office.

"Mrs. Lloyd, the baby is fine; you, on the other hand, need to gain some weight. You are far too thin," he said.

"All right," Jean said.

The doctor turned to her husband. "You must make sure that your wife does not over-exert herself. If she is tired, make her rest. If she is hungry, make her eat. Take care of her," he said.

"I will," Teddy promised, squeezing his wife's hand lightly. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome. Now, Mrs. Lloyd, please see the receptionist to make your next appointment a month from now," he said.

"Thank you, Doctor," Jean replied, and Teddy helped her down from the examining table. They made an appointment for next month. They walked out of the doctor's office, and Teddy hailed a cab to drive them back to their house.

"Jean, darling, I want you to rest, so I'll go pick up Duncan, all right?" he said.

"Teddy, I am not an invalid!" she snapped. "I am perfectly capable of walking two houses down to pick up our son!"

"Darling," he began, but was cut off by Jean rushing out of the room. He followed her into the bathroom, where she, once again, was throwing up loudly. She collapsed on the floor of the bathroom. "Jean, oh, Jean," he said, helping her up. He brought her to the bedroom. "Please, darling, don't over-exert yourself. I'll go pick Duncan up from Edward's, all right?"

She nodded weakly.

"Will you be all right when I'm gone?" he asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine," she said.

"I'll be back shortly, Jean," he said.

"All right," she replied, closing her eyes. "Will you bring Duncan in when you get back?"

"Of course, darling," he said, kissing her lightly. He left the room and walked two houses down to his cousin's house, ringing the doorbell.

One of the maids answered the door. "Hello, Mr. Lloyd," she said, curtseying. "Please come in." She showed him into the parlour, where Edward and Duncan were sitting, reading.

"Hello, Teddy," Edward said, looking up from the book. Duncan looked up as well.

"Hello, Daddy," Duncan said.

"How's Jean?" Edward asked.

"The baby's fine, but the doctor says that Jean needs to gain some weight," Teddy replied. "Thank you for watching Duncan."

"Any time," Edward replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, Duncan," Edward said to the boy, ruffling his hair. Duncan gave him a hug and jumped off the couch, taking his father's hand.

"Ready to go?" father asked son, and he nodded.

"Thanks again, Edward," Teddy said, and he and his son left his cousin's house. "Your Mummy wants to see you," Teddy told his son as they arrived home. "She's not feeling very well right now, so you'll have to be quiet."

"All right, Daddy," Duncan replied seriously. Teddy opened the door to the bedroom, and Duncan stepped into the bedroom. Teddy hovered in the doorway for a few moments until Jean motioned for him to enter.

"Take off your shoes and come and join me, darling," Jean said. Duncan obeyed and climbed into bed with her.

"Shall I get some tea, Jean?" Teddy asked.

"That would be nice, Teddy, thank you," Jean replied, smiling at him.

"All right, I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, exiting the room.

"Mummy, are you all right?" her son asked her.

"Yes, darling, I'm fine," she said, smiling weakly at him.

"You don't look well," he said.

"I'm fine," she said. "Don't worry about me, my dear," she said. "Now, how was your day with Uncle Eddy? What did you two do?"

"We went to the park and then we went back to the house to read," Duncan said.

"What did you do at the park?" she asked.

"We fed the ducks and went for a walk," Duncan said.

"How lovely, darling!" she exclaimed. "Did you have a good time?"

"I did," Duncan said.

Teddy came in, bearing a tray of tea. Setting it down on the nightstand, he poured his wife a cup of tea, his son a cup of milk, and then poured a cup of tea for himself.

"Won't you join us, Teddy?" Jean asked, smiling at him. He nodded, and, kicking off his shoes, joined his wife and son.

"Duncan was just telling me about his day," Jean said. "He and Edward went to the park and fed the ducks."

"That sounds nice; maybe we can go later this week," Teddy said.

"Good idea," Jean said. "Would you like that, Duncan?" she asked her son.

"Yes, Mummy," Duncan replied.

Jean handed her empty cup of tea to her husband and yawned.

"Let's let your mother take a nap, Duncan," he said.

"Ah, no; stay, please!" Jean said.

"Jean, the doctor said that when you're tired, you have to rest," Teddy said.

"All right," Jean sighed. She kissed Duncan lightly on his forehead.

"Sleep well, Mummy," Duncan said, climbing out of the bed. He and Teddy left the room, and Jean leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes. She fell asleep a few moments later, and dreamed of her husband and son.

* * *

"Mummy, have you and Daddy always lived in Australia?" Duncan asked her three months later. They were downstairs in the parlour, waiting for Teddy to bring in the tea.

"No, darling," she said. "We used to live in Edinburgh, in Scotland."

"Is that far away?" he asked.

"All the way across the world," Jean said. "Go fetch the atlas from the study, and I'll show you." Duncan hopped down from the sofa and ran to the study, returning a few moments later with the large atlas. She opened the book and laid it out on the coffee table. "Here is Edinburgh," Jean said, pointing to her hometown. "And here is Sydney," she said, pointing to the city where they lived now.

"Can we go to Edinburgh one day?" Duncan asked.

"I don't know, darling," she said, stroking his hair. "Your father and I left Edinburgh because of some... bad memories there," she explained.

"Oh," her son replied. "How did you get to Australia?" he asked.

"We took a big boat from Edinburgh to Sydney."

"Bigger than the ones that we go on at the beach?" he asked.

"Yes, dear; much, much bigger," she chuckled. "Bigger than our house."

"Wow!" Duncan exclaimed.

"Maybe one day we'll take you there, Duncan," she said, stroking his hair. "Maybe one day."

* * *

"How did you and Teddy meet?" Edward asked her, the same afternoon Duncan had asked her about Edinburgh. It seemed to be a day for reminiscing. Teddy had taken Duncan to the park.

"We were both teachers at the Marcia Blaine School for Girls in Edinburgh," Jean began. "When I started there, I knew that I was attracted to him, despite the fact that he was married to Deirdre at the time. One day, at the end of my first year at Marcia Blaine, he asked me to pose for him. I agreed, and we ended up in bed together later that night. Afterwards, I ran off to Italy for the summer. I knew that I loved him, but I did not want to begin an affair with him because he was married."

"Then how did you end up married to him?" he asked.

"Well, he continued to try to win me over throughout the years, and, a few days before I was dismissed, he confronted me. My lover, one of the other teachers, was getting married, and I didn't know it. Teddy confronted me and he made me realise that I had been living a lie for years. Then... well, then we began an affair. Deirdre found out, and she had the marriage annulled. We got married a few days later."

"And why did you move to Sydney?" he asked curiously.

"One of my students, Sandy Stranger, had been sleeping with Teddy, but she had broken it off before Teddy and I became lovers again. Five months into my pregnancy, I slipped into a coma after a rock was thrown through our parlour window; I was in a coma for a month. Teddy suspected Sandy. When I emerged from the coma, Teddy and I went to a hotel. When our house burned down a few days later, well, we knew it was Sandy. We left for Australia three days later."

"Oh, my God, Jean – that's awful," Edward said, shocked. He placed his hand over hers in sympathy.

"It was," Jean said. "It certainly was. And today... today, Duncan asked me if we could go to Edinburgh. Oh, Edward, I miss it – I miss it so much, but I'm too scared to return. I'm afraid that Sandy will find us and hurt us – I'm terrified that she will hurt Duncan or the new baby," she said, resting a protective hand on her burgeoning belly. "But I do want Duncan and the new baby to see where I grew up. Edinburgh is a part of me, and it should be a part of them as well."

He smiled at her. "Well, I hope that you will be able to return one day," he said. His expression changed into one of puzzlement. "Does Duncan know that he has half-brothers and half-sisters?" he asked.

"No, he doesn't," Jean said. "I know that we should tell him, though." She winced suddenly.

"Are you all right, Jean?" he asked her, concerned.

She smiled at him. "Yes, I'm fine. The baby's just a strong kicker. Would you like to feel?" she asked him, and he nodded. She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. He smiled in delight as he felt the baby kick.

"That's wonderful!" he exclaimed. She smiled at him.

"It is, isn't it?" she asked. She yawned.

"Tired, darling?" he asked her, and she nodded. "I'll help you up to bed, then," he said.

"But I want to stay down here with you," she pouted, sounding like a petulant child. He smiled softly at her.

"Why don't we compromise? I'll make up a bed for you down here on the couch, and stay with you. All right?" he asked.

"All right," she agreed.

"I'll be right back," he said, and went upstairs to the linen closet to get a spare set of blankets and a few pillows. When he returned, she was fast asleep. He unfolded one of the blankets and laid it over her, then gently placed a pillow beneath her head. After making sure she was comfortable, he sat down in an armchair next to the couch and watched the love of his life sleep.

Several hours later, Jean woke up, screaming. Edward rushed to her side.

"What's wrong, Jean?" he asked, taking her hand.

"Oh, God," she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "Oh, God."

"Jean," he begged her. "What happened?"

"I dreamed that Duncan was in the house as it burned," she gasped.

"The house in Edinburgh?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Oh, God, Edward, I don't know if I can ever go back to Edinburgh," she said.

"It's all right, Jean – it's all right," he soothed her. "It'll be all right."

When Teddy and Duncan returned, just in time for dinner, Jean had composed herself again. She made Edward promise that he would not tell Teddy about her nightmare – she did not want to worry him. Though the beginning of her pregnancy had been difficult, after she had gained some weight, the pregnancy proceeded smoothly. Despite the good reports from the doctor, Teddy had been very overprotective of her.

Edward stayed for dinner that night. There was not much conversation, as Jean was still shaken from her nightmare earlier. After dinner, Edward left and Jean went up to bed. Teddy tucked their son in to bed.

"Daddy, can we go to Edinburgh one day?" he asked.

"Yes, we can," his father replied. "Perhaps after the baby is born."

"All right," Duncan replied.

"Good night," Teddy said.

"Good night," Duncan replied.

Teddy went to his bedroom. Though it was still quite early in the evening, he was very tired. He got changed into his pyjamas and slipped into bed next to his wife.

A few hours later, he was woken up by his wife's screams. "No, oh God no!" she screamed.

"Jean; Jean, wake up!" he attempted to wake Jean up, and she finally succeeded.

"Oh, God, Teddy," she sobbed, flinging herself into his arms.

"Darling, are you all right?" he asked her, stroking her hair.

"Teddy, Teddy, Teddy," she sobbed, burying her face against his chest. "Oh, God."

"Jean, what's wrong?"

"Teddy, I dreamt that our house in Edinburgh was burning and Duncan was inside," she sobbed. "Oh, God, Teddy."

"Shh, Jean; it's all right," he soothed her. "We're not in Edinburgh any longer."

Eventually, her sobs stopped, and she fell asleep, her head resting against his chest. He, too, joined his wife in slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

* * *

For the next two weeks, Jean was plagued with nightmares of their time in Edinburgh. Teddy grew quite worried, and eventually consulted Jean's doctor. All the advice he could give Teddy was to keep Jean calm and safe, so that she would not inadvertently harm the baby. Teddy tried, and it worked – Jean's nightmares disappeared. Teddy did not know, however, that it was not because of him that her nightmares disappeared – it was because of Edward. Edward had been a much greater help to Jean than Teddy had been. Every night, Edward wrote a long letter to Jean, reassuring her that he would never let anything bad happen to her. She kept the letters in a locked box in the drawer of her nightstand.

Dearest, darling Jean,

I promise you that I will never let anything bad happen to you again. As long as it is in my power, I will make sure that you are happy, safe, and loved for the rest of your life. I love you, my darling, and I want the best for you – even if the best is not me. I love you with all my heart, Jean, and I will love you for eternity.

Yours always,

Edward

Thanks to Edward's loving letters, Jean was able, finally, to push her nightmares aside. Both she and Edward had an agreement to let Teddy think that it was thanks to him that her nightmares had stopped.

* * *

The months ticked by. Nothing of note really happened, except that Duncan started school. He attended Riverview, a day and boarding school run by the Jesuits. Despite Jean's contempt for the Roman Catholic Church, Edward had reassured her that it was one of the finest schools in Sydney, and he himself had gone there as a child. Jean acquiesced only because she wanted her son to have the best education that he could. Surprisingly, Duncan loved the school. His teachers – Jesuit priests – loved him as well – Duncan was a very bright child, and learned very quickly. Jean was so proud of her son.

Though Duncan was so good with standard academics, his real passion, even at the age of four, was painting. He certainly had inherited his parents' artistic temperaments. He had also inherited his father's talent in art. Teddy, especially, was pleased that Duncan had inherited his talent – none of his other six children had shown the slightest proclivity towards art, probably because Deirdre had no real liking for it. He hoped that their next child would be just as talented.

* * *

November came, and Jean waited patiently for the baby to arrive. Early in the morning of the eleventh of November, 1941, Jean went into labour. Teddy brought Duncan over to Edward's, so that Edward could bring him to school. Teddy then called the doctor, who came over right away. Her labour was much more difficult this time around, lasting nearly twelve hours. Teddy was not allowed to be with his wife, and he could not bear to stay downstairs, listening to his wife's screams of pain echo through the house. He went over to Edward's house, and they waited for word of the birth. The baby was not born by the time they had to pick Duncan up from school, so Teddy went to pick up his son while Edward waited for news. Duncan and Teddy had returned before the baby was born, and they sat at Edward's house, waiting. Finally, at five o'clock in the afternoon, they received word that the baby had been born. They hurried back to the house and up to the bedroom, where Jean was laying, exhausted but happy, on the bed, cradling her son.

Duncan rushed to his mother's side, and she smiled at him.

"Would you like to see your new baby brother?" Jean asked her oldest son, and Duncan nodded, standing on his toes to look at the baby. His new baby brother was sleeping, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. The child's golden hair glistened in the dim light of the room.

"What's his name?" Duncan asked.

"William Alistair Lloyd," Jean said.

William began to stir, his eyes fluttering open. He had large blue eyes, just like Duncan's and Jean's. Duncan looked down at his brother and smiled. William smiled back. Jean's eyes filled with tears of joy as she watched her two sons. A few minutes later, William dropped back asleep, and Jean yawned herself.

"Let's let your Mummy and your brother get some sleep," Teddy said, ushering Duncan out of the room, leaving Edward with Jean.

"Congratulations, darling," he said, kissing her cheek lightly.

"Thank you, Edward," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming in pain during her labour.

"He's beautiful," Edward said, a gently finger tracing Jean's son's features.

"He is, isn't he?" Jean replied, her voice full of maternal pride. Teddy came back in.

"Do you want Duncan to stay with me for a few nights?" Edward asked Teddy and Jean.

"That would be grand; thank you, Edward," Teddy replied.

"I'll take him back to my house now, then," Edward said. "Congratulations, Jean, Teddy," Edward said. "I'll bring Duncan around tomorrow."

"Thank you, Edward," Jean said, smiling softly at him.

Edward returned her smile, then left to fetch Duncan. They stopped by the room to say goodnight, then left for Edward's house.

"Would you like to hold your son, Teddy?" Jean asked, and Teddy nodded, sitting down on the bed next to her. She handed their son to Teddy, who smiled down at the boy. He was sleeping again.

"He has your hair," Teddy said.

She smiled down at the baby. "It's only fair that one of our children should inherit something from me."

"Duncan has your eyes," Teddy countered.

"And your talent," Jean replied, chuckling slightly. The baby began to whimper. "Feeding time, I suppose," Jean said, opening her nightgown. Teddy handed the baby back to her, and she held him to her breast. He began to suckle hungrily, and Jean smiled down at her new baby boy. Fifteen minutes later, he had fallen back asleep, and Jean handed the baby to Teddy, who put him in his bassinet. When he turned back to Jean, she, too, was asleep. He sat down next to his wife, tenderly stroking her hair.

"I love you, Jean," he whispered, and she smiled in her slumber, turning towards him. He changed into his pyjamas and joined her in bed.

* * *

Duncan had been a very easy baby, but, unlike his brother, William had a very difficult infanthood. He was quite a sickly child, which pained Jean, and the doctor visited nearly every week to diagnose the baby with a new illness. He was colicky one week, had the mumps the next, and had a cold after that. Jean and Teddy were very worried about their child, but, by the time he was a year old, William had outgrown his illnesses. Both Jean and Teddy were immensely relieved. By the time that William was a year old, his eyes had changed from the light blue they had been at his birth to a rich chocolate brown identical to Teddy's.

Duncan was a marvellous big brother – he loved spending time with his young brother, teaching him everything he knew. William was very attached to his brother, even from an early age. Thanks to Duncan's persistence at talking to William, he began to speak at the remarkably young age of nine months. He also began to walk at nine months, and he got into everything. Jean was forever trying to keep him out of trouble.

Jean was very happy that Duncan loved his younger brother so much – she had been quite worried that he would resent his younger brother's presence or be jealous of him. The exact opposite was true. Duncan was growing up to be an incredibly generous and loving child, and Jean could not believe that he was her son. She knew that she had been an extraordinarily selfish woman for most of her life, but becoming a wife and a mother had changed her, though she was certainly not as wonderful a person as her son, or, for that matter, as wonderful a person as Edward. She knew that it was Edward's influence that had made her oldest son such a fine person.

Though Teddy had been so supportive during her pregnancy, once she had given birth, he slipped a bit back into his old ways. No, he was not cheating on her again, but he was back to spending long nights at his studio. He also began to drink again – he had given that up during her pregnancy, but once William was born, he returned to his old habits.

Once more, Edward found himself in the role of surrogate father – not that he minded in the least. He loved Jean's children as if they were his own. Edward, unlike Teddy, had never had any children. Edward was quite content to be the surrogate father to Jean's children – and Jean was very happy to have Edward's influence in her sons' life.

Jean and Teddy's seventh wedding anniversary occurred when Duncan was six and William was sixteen months old. Edward had offered to watch the children so that Teddy and Jean could have some time to themselves, for the first time in over a year. Their last anniversary had not been much of a celebration, as William had been quite sick – he had had the mumps at the time – so, as a treat for Jean, he had arranged for them to spend the day entirely to themselves. He had made reservations for them at one of Sydney's elite restaurants. Jean was so pleased to see that her husband really cared about her – and she was thrilled that they would be able to spend the evening alone with each other.

After dinner, Teddy brought Jean home. He carried her up to their bedroom, just like he had when they were first married.

"I love you, Jean," he said, smiling down at her.

"Oh, Teddy," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you to."

He began to undress her, taking pleasure in revealing her skin. "You are so beautiful, Jean; even more beautiful than you were the first time we made love," he said.

"And you are even more handsome," she said. He smiled down at her and pulled off the rest of her clothes.

It was her turn to undress him, and she, too, took her time. While she removed his clothes, he caressed her breasts, and it was incredibly hard for her to concentrate on undressing him. She managed it in the end, however, and lay down on the bed, pulling him down on top of her.

They had not made love in months, as they had both been busy with William. Despite their urgency and desire, they took their time, Teddy caressing her breasts first with his hands, then his mouth; Jean kissing absolutely every inch of his body. Finally, he guided himself into her, and she began to come almost immediately, having been so aroused by just his touch.

"Oh, God, Teddy, Teddy my love!" she cried out as she came. "Oh, harder, harder!" she begged him, and he obliged her, thrusting harder and harder within her. She clutched at his back as he moved within her, and she cried out again. He finally climaxed just as her second orgasm peaked, and he collapsed on top of her, rolling onto his back so that he would not crush her.

"I love you, Jean," he whispered as he cradled her against his chest.

"And I love you, Teddy," she replied.

The next day, Jean went around to Edward's house to pick up her children. Teddy had gone to his studio.

"Did you have a nice anniversary, Jean?" Edward asked her.

"Yes, I did," Jean said, smiling. She looked like a cat that got the cream. "How were the boys?" she asked.

"Perfectly well-behaved," Edward said. "They're upstairs."

"I'll go fetch them, then," Jean said.

"I'll go with you," Edward replied, and they walked up the stairs. Duncan and William were playing with a few blocks – Duncan was stacking them and William was knocking them over.

"Hello, darlings," Jean said, and her two sons looked up at her.

"Hello, Mummy!" Duncan said, jumping up and giving her a hug. "Did you have a good anniversary?"

"Yes, dear, I did," Jean said. She smiled down at her sons before picking up William. "Ready to go home?"

"All right," Duncan replied.

"Edward, will you help me bring the boys' things back?" she asked, and he nodded. A half-hour later, Jean, Edward, William, and Duncan were walking back to the house.

"Would you like some tea, Edward?" Jean asked.

"All right," he replied. Jean rang the bell, and one of the maids entered.

"Can you bring us some tea, please?" Jean asked, and the maid nodded.

"Mummy, can William and I play upstairs?" Duncan asked.

"Of course, darling," Jean replied. Her two sons walked up the stairs hand in hand. A few moments later, the maid brought the tea in.

"Shall I be mother?" Jean asked, and Edward nodded. She poured out two cups of tea, adding a splash of milk and two lumps of sugar to her cup and a single lump to Edward's cup. As they sat in comfortable silence, sipping their tea, Teddy burst in.

"Jean, we're going back to Edinburgh!" he declared.

She dropped her cup of tea as she fainted.

A few minutes later, she awoke.

"Are you all right, Jean?" Teddy asked her.

"Oh, Teddy, please don't make us move back to Edinburgh!" she cried. "I like it here in Australia – it's safe here. Please, Teddy..."

"Oh, Jean," he chuckled. "Not to move back, darling, just to visit. They want to give me an award."

"For how long?" she asked.

"A month, at most," Teddy said. "It'll be fine, Jean, I promise."

"When?" Jean asked.

"In September," he said. "We'd have to leave in a month. Come, Jean – it will be wonderful for our children to see Edinburgh."

"All right," she acquiesced reluctantly. She did not want her husband to leave her again – she was scared that he would never come back if he did. And she did want her children to see Edinburgh, the city she had loved so dear for so long. She had no choice but to agree, and agree she did.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

* * *

A month later, Jean, Teddy, William, and Duncan stood on the deck of the ship, waving goodbye to Edward, who was standing at the pier. Jean was still nervous about returning to Edinburgh, though she was a bit excited as well. She had not been back in nearly seven years, and she had missed it so much. She was also excited that her two sons would see where their parents had lived when they were first married.

As the ship pulled away from the dock, Jean, Teddy, William, and Duncan went to explore their cabin. They had two first-class staterooms adjoining each other; Duncan and Will would have one, and Jean and Teddy would have the other. The staterooms were large, each with their own sitting room. After they had examined their homes for the next three weeks, Teddy took Duncan around the ship while Jean put William down for a nap. Jean settled down for a nap as well, but was stirred out of her slumber by her younger son's cries. Yawning, she shuffled into the other stateroom and picked up William.

"Are you all right, darling?" she asked him, rocking him back and forth.

"Mummy, I'm scared of being by myself this room," he said, burying his face in her neck. "Can I stay with you?"

"Of course, darling," she said, walking back through to her room. She tucked him in her bed, then joined him. They drifted off to sleep.

They woke a few hours later when Teddy and Duncan came back in from exploring the ship.

"It's so big, Mummy!" Duncan declared. "Bigger than anything I've ever seen!"

She smiled at him. "What did you two see?" she asked as he climbed up on the bed to join her.

"We saw the swimming pool and the dining rooms and the staircase and the library..." he trailed off. "Everything, really!" he pronounced.

"Ah, everything?" she asked him, beginning to tickle his stomach. He giggled, trying to roll away from Jean, but he failed, and she continued to tickle him.

"Uncle!" he cried, and Jean stopped tickling him. He lay on his back, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm hungry, Mummy," William said.

"All right, darling," Jean said, climbing out of bed. "Let's get you dressed, hmm?"

She went into the stateroom that William and Duncan were sharing and pulled out his navy blue blazer and khaki pants, along with a white oxford shirt and a tie. Jean dressed William, and, after he was dressed, she got dressed herself while Teddy minded the boys. A half an hour later, the Lloyd family headed to the first-class dining room for dinner.

Both boys behaved like angels. After dinner, Teddy and Jean took their children for a walk on deck.

"Miss Brodie?" a familiar voice called, and Jean turned around.

A tall, strawberry-blonde haired young woman was standing there.

"Jenny?" she asked, and the woman nodded. "Jenny, I can't believe you're here!" she exclaimed, embracing her former student.

"How are you, Miss Brodie?" she asked.

"Call me Jean, dear," she said, and Jenny nodded. "I've been very well. How have you been?" she asked her former student.

"I've been well; I'm coming back from my honeymoon," Jenny said. "Why are you on this ship, if that's not too rude a question?"

"Well, you know that I married Teddy Lloyd, don't you?" she asked. Jenny nodded. "Well, we moved to Australia seven years ago, after our house was burned, and we've lived there ever since. We're going back to Edinburgh because Teddy is getting an award," Jean explained.

Teddy approached the two women, his two sons holding his hands. "Hello, Jenny," Teddy said.

"Hello, Mr. Lloyd," Jenny replied.

"Please call me Teddy," he said.

"Jenny, these are our sons," Jean said. "This is Duncan," Jean placed her hand on her older son's hand, "And this is William."

"How do you do?" Jenny asked, extending her hand to Jean's older son. He shook it solemnly.

"Pleased to meet you," Duncan said gravely.

"Jenny was one of my students," Jean explained to her sons. A man approached them, wrapping his arm around Jenny's waist. Jenny smiled up at him.

"Miss Brodie – Jean – this is my husband, Richard Quigley," Jenny said. "Richard, this is one of my former teachers, Jean Brodie, her husband, Teddy Lloyd, and her two sons, Duncan and William."

"Pleased to meet you," Richard said, shaking first Teddy's hand, then Jean's.

William yawned.

"We'd better go," Jean said, picking up her sleepy son.

"So soon?" Jenny asked.

"I'm sorry, dear. Perhaps you will join us for breakfast tomorrow?" Jean suggested.

"I'd like that, Jean," Jenny replied. "Tomorrow at eight thirty in the first-class dining room?" she suggested, and Jean nodded.

"Good night," Jean said, kissing Jenny lightly on the cheek.

Jenny returned the kiss. "See you tomorrow."

Jean smiled once more at her favourite former student, and walked back to her stateroom with her husband and two sons.

As soon as they reached their staterooms, Jean undressed her youngest son and changed him into his pyjamas. He was asleep before she could tuck him into bed.

Duncan was far more awake than his brother.

"Mummy, will you read me a story?" he asked her.

"Of course, darling – get changed into your pyjamas first, though," she said. "When you're finished, come into my room."

A few minutes later, Duncan walked through the short corridor to his mother and father's room, carrying "The Little Prince", his current favourite book. He knocked on the door to his parents' bedroom.

"Come in!" he heard his mother call, and he opened the door. She was dressed in her nightgown, a dressing gown wrapped around her. "Hello, darling," she said. He climbed up into bed with her. "What book are we reading tonight?" she asked. He handed her the copy of "The Little Prince".

"Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest..."

Three chapter in, Jean looked down at her son and saw that he had fallen asleep. She set down the book and picked up her son, carrying him back to his room. It was quite difficult, as he was getting too heavy for her to carry him easily, but she managed. Once she had tucked her son in, she stayed there for a few minutes, looking down at her two boys. She loved them both so much. Gently kissing each of their foreheads, she went down the corridor to her bedroom. Jean slipped between the covers and picked up the alarm clock, winding it. She set the alarm clock down and snuggled between the sheets, falling asleep almost immediately.

She was woken up a few hours later when her husband joined her in bed. He was naked, and she could feel his erection pressing against her abdomen. She moaned as he woke her up with kisses.

"Mmm, Teddy," she whispered. He entered her, and she bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out.

"Oh, God, Jean, yes!" he whispered hoarsely as he pumped in and out of her. "Yes, darling, yes!"

She began to come, her nails digging into his back, her back arching as he continued to thrust within her. A few moments later, he too climaxed. Finally, they collapsed in each other's arms.

"God, I love you, Jean," he whispered, stroking her hair. She snuggled up to him.

"I love you too, Teddy," she replied. They drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Jean and her family met Jenny and her new husband for breakfast. Jenny and Jean had a lot to catch up on – after all, it had been seven years since they had seen each other. Jenny filled Jean in with all that had happened to the people from Marcia Blaine.

Miss Mackay had died last year of pneumonia. Jean smiled a bit at this, though she did not wish to be mean-spirited.

Gordon Lowther and his wife, Heather Lockhart, had had a daughter five years ago, whom they named Helen.

Monica had gone on to London, and was now a member of the Royal Court Theatre. Jean always knew that she would go far in the theatre. Jenny had continued to model – that was how she had met her husband – he was an artist himself. He and Teddy got on like a house on fire.

And Sandy, Jean was relieved to hear, had entered a nunnery. Jean was so happy, knowing that her children would be safe while they were in Edinburgh. Jean made a mental note to write a letter to Edward to let him know the good news.

After breakfast, Teddy and Richard took the boys to the pool while Jenny and Jean strolled around the deck.

"Why did you stop teaching, Jean?" Jenny asked her.

"Sandy told the school board that I had been teaching fascism," she explained. "And the Board of Governors dismissed me."

"Oh, Jean – I never knew!" she exclaimed. "I stopped by your flat the week after you left, but you weren't there."

"I'm sorry, Jenny," Jean apologised. "I couldn't stay in the flat any longer – it held too many memories."

"It's all right, Jean," Jenny replied.

"You'll have dinner with us tonight, won't you?" Jean asked.

"Of course," Jenny said.

"I'd best go – it's almost time for William's nap," Jean said. "I'll see you at dinner?" she asked.

"Of course, Jean," Jenny replied. "See you at dinner."

* * *

The rest of the trip passed quite uneventfully for the Lloyds and the Quigleys. Jenny and Jean were able to catch up on the past seven years. They made plans for the Quigleys to come down and spend the next Christmas with them. When the boat docked, Jean and Jenny said their goodbyes. Jenny and her husband flew off to London, where they were now living, while Jean, Teddy, and their two sons checked into their hotel.

It was late, and Jean tucked her sons in to bed. Like on the ship, they had two adjoining suites. Jean stayed with her sons for several hours, just watching them sleep. She loved them both so much, and was so glad that Sandy had joined a nunnery. She was so glad that Sandy would never hurt her or her family again. She began to grow drowsy, and, giving her each of her sons a kiss on their forehead, she returned to her room and crawled beneath the sheets. Her husband was still not back, and she suspected that he would not be back for some time. Sighing in disappointment, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

The next morning, she was woken up by her two sons crawling into bed with her. Teddy had come back very late last night, and he was sleeping on the couch.

"Good morning, darlings," Jean said, kissing her son's cheeks.

"Good morning, Mummy," her boys said.

"Would you like to see Edinburgh today, boys?" she asked, and they nodded, wiggling with excitement.

"Let's get dressed, then, shall we?" she asked, and they nodded, tumbling out of bed. A half an hour later, Jean and her two sons were headed downstairs to the hotel's restaurant for breakfast. Jean had left a note for Teddy. After breakfast, they headed outside. There hotel was right on the Royal Mile, and Jean was pleased that they wouldn't have to walk to far to some of her favourite places, especially as it was much colder here in Edinburgh than it was in Australia, but Jean revelled in it.

Jean and her two sons walked up the Royal Mile to St. Giles Cathedral, to Holyroodhouse, and finally to the building where her husband had had his studio. After their long walk, Jean brought her boys back to the hotel for lunch. They stopped off at the rooms to see if Teddy was awake; he was, and, a few minutes later, the Lloyds headed down to lunch.

After lunch, Jean went downstairs to arrange for someone to watch the two boys for the night. Tonight was Teddy's award ceremony at the museum. One of the maids would watch the children for the night.

A few hours later, Jean and Teddy finished getting ready for the award ceremony. Jean was wearing a long, black silk dress, long white gloves, and the pearl earrings and pearl necklace Edward had given her for her birthday several years ago. Teddy was dressed in a smart tuxedo, with a set of cufflinks that Jean had given him a few years ago. After getting dressed, the Lloyds then got their sons ready for bed. After they were tucked in, Jean and Teddy gave the maid instructions on what to do if their sons woke up. Jean and Teddy then hailed a cab and left for the museum.

There were hundreds of people there, and Jean squeezed Teddy's arm lightly – she was a bit uncomfortable. On display were seven of the fifteen portraits Teddy had painted of her nearly seven years ago. Jean was quite uncomfortable, seeing her likeness hung on the walls. And she could not even take refuge in her husband's embrace, as he had been dragged off almost immediately by the curator of the museum, and Jean herself was dragged off by the curator's wife.

As the evening wore on, Jean was growing more and more uneasy. Teddy, however, was in his element – he loved being surrounded by people, especially women, and there were many beautiful women vying for his attention tonight. The worst thing about it was that Teddy flirted with all of the women who flirted with him, which hurt Jean. She patiently waited for the ceremony to begin – it seemed like years before her husband was finally presented with the award.

Once the award was presented, Teddy had to make a speech. He thanked the museum, the curator, and the guests.

"And none of this would have been possible without my inspiration, my Muse, my wife – Jean Brodie Lloyd," he said. He gestured for his wife to join him, and she did. "I love you, Jean," he said, and the room burst into applause as he kissed her. She smiled at him when they broke out of the kiss, and he wrapped his arm around his waist, guiding her off the stage. He stayed by her side for the rest of the evening, though he did continue to flirt with other women. Finally, the celebration wound down, and Jean and Teddy went back to their hotel.

He was very amorous on the ride back to the hotel – kissing her neck, caressing her breasts, despite the presence of the cab driver.

"Teddy," she whispered, pushing him away half-heartedly. "Wait until we get back to the hotel," she said.

"I can't wait, Jean, and it's all your fault," he growled lowly. "You look so beautiful in that dress..." he trailed off as he captured her lips with his again, just as they arrived at the hotel.

"Thank you," Jean told the cabby breathlessly, handing him the cab fare. She and her husband tumbled out of the cab and went up to their room. Jean paid the maid who had watched their sons while Teddy went to the bedroom. Jean joined him, and he undressed her quickly while she helped him off with his clothes. He pushed her down onto the bed and climbed on top of her, continuing to kiss her.

"Oh, God, Jean, I need you," he whispered hoarsely. He pinned her beneath him and pinned her beneath him, entering her slowly. She stifled her cries on pent-up frustration by biting down on her lip. He began to move in her slowly, thrusting deep within her.

"Teddy," she moaned, rolling her hips against his. "Oh, Teddy!"

"I love you, Jean, oh, I love you!" he said, kissing her as he pumped within her. He began to come, gripping her shoulders tightly. She climaxed as well, moaning her pleasure. He fell on top of her, and she embraced him tightly. He rolled over onto his back and held his wife to him.

"I love you, Teddy," she said, kissing his chest lightly.

"I love you, Jean," he replied. She caressed his chest before rolling out of bed.

"I suppose we should get dressed, just in case the boys decide to wake us up in the morning," Jean said, rummaging through the drawers. She pulled out one of her nightgowns and handed Teddy a pair of pyjamas. After getting dressed, Jean rejoined her husband in bed.

"I'm so happy you got that award," Jean told her husband.

"I am too," he said, stroking her hair.

"Teddy, thank you for saying that I was your Muse, Teddy," she added.

"You are, Jean," he said. "You are my Muse – you always have been; always will be."

Her heart nearly burst with the love she felt for her husband. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and they drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

* * *

The rest of their month in Edinburgh passed very quickly, and soon it was time for them to board the ship back to Australia. Jean was torn between staying in Edinburgh, the city that she loved, and returning to Australia, where Edward was. Eventually, she decided not to say anything about her wish to remain in Edinburgh to Teddy, but held her tongue, and they returned to Australia as planned.

They were met by Edward at the pier when they returned from Edinburgh. As soon as she saw him, she knew that she had made the right decision not to tell Teddy that she wished to remain in Edinburgh, because she knew that she would not be happy without Edward. She could not believe that she had disliked him so intensely when they had first met. Jean now knew that she had been wrong to dislike him, because he was the one person who loved her more than anything. Yes, Teddy loved her – she knew that – but he did not love her and cherish her above all others, like Edward did. And yes, her sons loved her, and she loved them – but they did not love her in the way she needed – nor did she want them to love her like that. But she needed that love from somewhere, and Edward was there to provide it.

They walked down the gangplank to the pier, Jean's eyes locked with Edward's as she walked closer to him. She had not seen him for nearly three months, nearly a quarter of a year, and she had not realised, until she laid eyes on him again, how much she had missed him, and how much she loved him.

"Hello, Edward," Jean said, smiling as he embraced her, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, Jean," he replied, beaming down at her. "How was Edinburgh?"

"Wonderful," Jean replied, a wistful expression on her face. "Just wonderful."

Jean felt a tug at her hand. "Mummy, I'm tired; can we go home?" William asked her.

"Of course, darling," she said, picking him up. Jean, Teddy, Duncan, William, and Edward headed to Edward's car, and he drove them back to their house. Jean brought her two children up to bed, while Teddy went out for a drink. Edward helped her with the children, and, once they were asleep, they went downstairs.

"So you enjoyed your time in Edinburgh?" Edward asked her.

"Oh, yes," she replied. "Especially because we did not have worry about Sandy. Oh, Edward, I hadn't realised how much I had missed Edinburgh! I wanted to ask Teddy if we could move back there permanently."

"Why didn't you, if you missed it so much?" Edward asked her sadly.

"Because I couldn't leave you, Edward," Jean said. "And when we arrived back in Australia, and I saw you waiting on the dock for us, I knew that I made the right choice. I hadn't realised how much I loved you until I saw you waiting for us. Edward, I could never leave Australia permanently unless you were with me," she said. "I love you, Edward," she said, leaning into his embrace.

"Oh, Jean, I love you too," he whispered. She smiled up at him and pulled him down for a kiss.

A few minutes later, she pulled back. "I love you, Edward," she said again. "I love you so much."

"Oh, Jean," he whispered, nuzzling her hair. "I love you. I am so glad that decided to come back," he told her.

"I came back for you, Edward," she replied.

"I am glad, Jean," he said.

She smiled up at him once more before yawning. "Oh, I am sorry," she said, covering her mouth with her hand.

"It's all right, Jean; you've had a long journey, and I wouldn't expect you not to be tired," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"All right, Edward," she said, yawning again. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied. She stood up and gave him one final kiss.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Teddy stumbled in at three o'clock in the morning, waking up his wife.

"Teddy, where have you been?" she asked him.

"At the bar," he said, collapsing on the bed. "Ugh, I feel rough."

"Teddy, we've got to talk," she said.

"Can't it wait until the morning?" he asked, slurring his words.

"All right," she sighed, agreeing reluctantly.

"Good night," he said, and rolled over, falling asleep almost immediately.

She could not fall back asleep, but rolled out of bed, rummaging in her locked nightstand drawer for the box of letters from Edward. She walked downstairs to the living room and opened the box, pulling out at random a letter from Edward.

Darling Jean,

Happy birthday, my love. I hope that you have the best day ever. I cannot believe that it has been nearly seven years since we first met, and every day you grow even more beautiful than the day before. You are so wonderful, my dearest, and I am so grateful to be a part of your life.

I love you, and I will love you forever.

Edward

Jean burst into tears. Why did she continue to choose Teddy over Edward? Why did she continue to love Teddy over Edward? Edward could give her everything – love, a home, a stable life... while Teddy only caused her pain. She loved both of them, loved them both so much. She did not know what to do – she honestly did not. She thought that she should leave Teddy and go to Edward – that might be best for the children – but she was not sure. Wouldn't it be best for her children to have a home with their real father? And Teddy was a good father, he truly was... when he was not drunk. And she knew that he loved their children, and knew that he loved her. But Edward loved her sons as well, and loved her so much, much more than Teddy loved her. She did not know what to do. Sighing, she put the letters from Edward back in their box, and went up to her bedroom. Locking the box in the drawer, she slipped beneath the covers. Teddy turned towards her in his sleep. She smiled down at him, her heart overflowing with love despite herself. She loved him, loved him so much, and she knew, deep down, that she would never leave him.

The next morning, when Jean woke up, her husband was gone. There was a note on the nightstand, attached to a red rose. Jean opened the note.

Good morning, my darling. I am sorry that we'll have to postpone our talk, but the National Art School rang, wanting me to meet with them immediately. We can talk when I get back.

I love you, Jean.

Teddy.

Jean smiled as she picked up the rose, holding it to her nose. She set it back down again and climbed out of bed. Picking up her dressing gown, she slipped into it and walked downstairs. She could hear her two sons laughing as she entered the living room. They were playing with Duncan's train set, and Edward was there as well.

"Good morning," Jean said, and her sons and Edward looked up.

"Good morning, Mummy!" her two boys cried, standing up and rushing towards her to give her a hug.

"Good morning, darlings," she said, kissing each of them on their foreheads.

"Good morning, Jean," Edward said, smiling at her.

"Good morning, Edward," she replied.

"The boys have already had breakfast, and the maids left a tray for you here," he said, gesturing to a covered tray on the coffee table.

"Thank you," she said, walking over to the couch. The boys went back to their trains while Edward joined her on the couch, pouring her a cup of tea while she loaded her plate with eggs, bacon, and potatoes. "Thank you," she said again, taking the cup of tea from Edward.

"Where's Teddy this morning?" he asked.

"He left me a note, saying that the National Art School rang and asked him to come over immediately," she said. "I wonder why?"

"Maybe they want him to do an exhibition," Edward said.

"That would be lovely," Jean said. "Then he won't have to travel, like the last time."

"Yes, that would," he said, squeezing her hand lightly. She smiled at him.

A half an hour later, Jean had finished her breakfast and went upstairs to get dressed.

"Jean!" she heard her husband call.

"Just a minute!" she called back, and finished getting dressed. Five minutes later, Jean walked down the stairs and into the living room, where her husband, his brother, and her two sons were waiting for her.

"Jean, darling, the National Art School wants me to do an exhibition for them," he said.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" she said, joining him on the couch. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Jean," he said. "They want me to reprise my earlier exhibition, so I'll have to set up a studio here at the house. You don't mind posing for me again, do you?" he asked.

"No, of course not!" she said. "When is your exhibition? How many portraits do they want?"

"The exhibition is in nine months, and they want ten portraits, including the first one that I painted of you," he said. "So we'll have to start tomorrow at the latest."

"All right," she agreed, smiling. "They don't want you to travel again, do they?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"No, they don't," Teddy replied.

"Good," she replied.

"I'm going to start moving my things over to the spare room, all right?" he asked, and she nodded. "Edward," he asked, turning to his cousin, "could I borrow your car?"

"Of course. Do you want some help?" he asked.

"That would be great," Teddy replied. He turned back to Jean. "We'll see you in a bit," he said to Jean.

"All right, darling," she replied.

The two men left, and Jean watched her sons play with their trains while she daydreamed.

She was so pleased that her husband was going to have another exhibition, and even more pleased that he would not have to travel this time. And they would be spending so much time together, which was wonderful.

"Mummy?" William asked her, and she pulled herself out of her daydream.

"Yes, dear?" she asked.

"When are we going back to Edinburgh?"

Jean smiled wistfully. "I don't know, darling," she said. "Maybe when you're a bit older."

"Can we move there?" Duncan asked.

"Don't you like Australia?" Jean asked.

"Yes, but I like Edinburgh too," Duncan stated. Jean smiled.

"Maybe when you have both finished school, we can move back so that you can go to university there," Jean replied.

"But that's so far away!" William pouted.

"We can always go back to visit," Jean said.

"All right," William said, pacified. The boys turned back to their trains, and Jean immersed herself in her daydream once again.

The next day, Duncan's new school year began, and Edward took William out for the day so that Jean and Teddy could work on his portraits of her for the exhibition. For the first portrait, Jean would pose in profile. She had a marvellous, majestic profile, but he had never painted it before. He truly enjoyed painting her – he had meant what he said at the awards ceremony – she was his Muse. Teddy was glad that, once more, his wife was posing for him. He did love her, after all, even though he was attracted to other women at times. He did love her, loved her so much, but it was not in his nature to remain faithful. He was always susceptible to the attentions of women, but no other woman would ever capture his heart the way that she had, so many years ago. Jean was the love of his life, and no one would ever replace her. Painting her was a way for him to show her his love, which was so hard for him to express.

* * *

January came, and with January came Jean's forty-third birthday. For her birthday, which was on a Saturday, Jean spent the day with her family – Teddy, Duncan, William, and Edward. Duncan and William had helped the cook bake a cake, and they each had made a card for their mother. William and Duncan had also each drawn a picture for her; Duncan's was of his mother, reading a book, and William's was of their family. Duncan had also included a short essay he wrote about his mother, and he read it to her.

"My mummy is the most wonderful mummy in the world. She is the prettiest woman I have ever seen, and the nicest. She is good at cooking. My mummy likes to read to us and play with us. She is the best person in the world, and I love her a lot. Without my mummy, I would be very sad. She is my favourite person in the whole wide world, and I am very glad that she is my mummy."

"Thank you, darling," Jean said, dabbing away at her tears. "I loved it."

Edward had gotten her a beautiful diamond brooch. "Oh, it's lovely," she said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Teddy had forgotten her birthday, and therefore did not have a gift.

"I'm sorry, Jean," he apologised. "I forgot; I suppose that I've been too wrapped up in the exhibition."

She forced herself to smile, though her heart was breaking. "It's all right, Teddy," she told him.

He smiled at her, relieved. He did not realise that that hurt her even more.

"Now, when do I get to blow out the candles?" Jean asked her sons, forcing herself to be cheerful.

Later that night, when she was in bed with her husband, she began to sob. Little did she know that her husband was still awake, not asleep as she had thought. He did nothing, but laid still and listened to her cry, his heart aching. He knew that it was his fault that she was crying, but he did not know what to say to make it better. She finally cried herself to sleep, clutching her pillow to her chest. He laid awake the rest of the night.

The next morning, Jean woke up to an empty bed. It was still quite early, so she did not know where Teddy could be. She got dressed and walked to the spare room, the room her husband was using as his studio. He was not there either. Feeling utterly forlorn and forgotten, Jean wandered downstairs, only to find her husband sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for her. A small wrapped box was sitting on top of her plate.

"Happy belated birthday, my darling," he said, standing up and walking over to her. He bent down and kissed her. Placing his hand on her back, he guided her to her seat, pulling out the chair for her. "Open your present, darling," he urged her, and she did. The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a golden locket; she opened it, revealing a picture of each of her sons.

"Thank you, Teddy," she said. "Will you help me put it on?" she asked, and he nodded, fastening the chain around her slim throat.

"I am sorry that I forgot your birthday, my love," he apologised again.

"It's all right, Teddy," she lied.

"I am sorry all the same," he said.

She smiled sadly at him, and opened her mouth to say something in response, but was interrupted by their children coming down the stairs for breakfast. Jean stood up and embraced her two sons.

"Good morning, darlings," she said. "Ready for breakfast?"

Her sons nodded and Jean rang the bell. One of the maids came in, bearing a tray filled with their breakfast.

"Thank you," Jean said as the maid set the tray down. She filled both of her sons' plates, then her husband's, and finally hers. Then her family settled down to a nice breakfast.

After breakfast, Jean, Duncan, William, and Teddy went to the studio to work on the next portrait. He had finished four already, and had six more months until his exhibition and five more portraits to finish before then.

For his fifth portrait, she was posing with their sons, reading them a book. Teddy was trying to get the boys painted in first, as neither of them liked sitting still for so long. Duncan was much better at sitting still than his brother, as he was older and had to sit still for hours at a time at school. Still, despite William's fidgeting, and despite Duncan's school schedule, the posing went well, and Teddy was able to finish the portrait in less than a month.

The rest of the portraits featured Jean, and they all finished much quicker than the one that also included their sons. Finally, it was time for his exhibition. Jean did not want to attend – she did not want to watch her husband flirt with dozens of women, just like at his award ceremony in Edinburgh. And that was indeed what happened. Jean left quite early on, and her husband did not even notice.

Edward was waiting for her at home, as he had watched the children for her. She collapsed into his arms.

"He doesn't love me, Edward," she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. He held her to him, soothing her.

"What happened?" he asked her.

"When, when we were there, he just went off and started chatting up all these other women, not even sparing me a glance. I can't take it anymore, Edward, I really can't..." she trailed off, turning her tear-stained face up to him.

He caressed her cheek. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I don't know, Edward," she whispered, looking utterly lost. "I can't leave him; I love him too much to leave him. But I don't know what to do."

"Whatever you do decide to do, Jean, know that I will always love you," he said.

"I know, Edward," she sighed, resting her head against his chest. "Why do you waste your time with me?"

"Because I love you, Jean," he said.

She looked up at him again. "Thank you." She stayed in his arms until she fell asleep, when he carried her up to her bedroom. With a final kiss to her lips, he left.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

* * *

Her husband stumbled into bed at three o'clock the next morning. Even though Jean was typically a light sleeper, she was not woken up this time, as she had exhausted herself from crying earlier that evening. Teddy collapsed into bed before he had even taken off his shoes.

The next morning, Jean woke up first, and looked down at her husband. Despite herself, she felt her heart melting again as she looked down at him. He looked so peaceful and perfectly harmless when he slept, and she tore her eyes away from him, not wanting to lose her resolve before she could speak to him about his recent behaviour. She placed her hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly; he stirred, waking.

"Good morning, Jean," Teddy said, his voice still hoarse from last night's escapades.

"Teddy, we need to talk," Jean told him.

"Can't it wait until after breakfast?" he asked her.

"No, Teddy, I'm sorry, but it can't wait," she replied. "Teddy, please, won't you stop staying out so late and stop flirting with every single woman who crosses your path?"

"Jean, you know me," he sighed.

"Yes, I do, Teddy – and I would never presume to try to change you. But please, darling, please! Can't you come home earlier a few times a week? And not flirt with as many women?" she asked. "Please Teddy; I love you so much, I need you so much," she said. "I beg you, Teddy – please love me." She could not believe that she was now relegated to begging her husband for his love and fidelity.

He was overcome with guilt as he watched his proud wife beg him to love her.

"I'm so sorry, Jean," he whispered. "I do love you."

She smiled sadly at him, tears in her eyes. "I know, Teddy," she said. "And I love you; I love you so much."

He reached out a hand to caress her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. He kissed her, rolling her onto her back, and continued to kiss her.

"I do love you, Jean," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "I do. I know it might not seem like it at times, but I do love you, have loved you for years."

"Oh, Teddy, I love you too," she whispered, her lips caressing his. He pushed up the skirt of her nightgown as her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. She pulled down her knickers as he pulled down his trousers, and he took his erection in hand as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Mmm, Jean, my darling," he moaned as he entered her. "Oh, you are so wonderful."

She clutched his back tightly, her nails digging into his back, the slight pain causing him to climax.

"Yes, Jean, yes!" he yelled.

"Oh, Teddy; Teddy, Teddy, my one, my only!" she cried out. He collapsed on top of her, resting there for a few moments.

"I love you, Jean," he said.

"I love you, Teddy."

* * *

Teddy took Jean's pleas to heart. He began coming home in time for dinner at least twice a week. He made more time for his family, and he stopped flirting so much with other women.

The rest of the year passed quietly, uneventfully, with Teddy not forgetting their sons' birthdays or his and Jean's anniversary. William began school, attending Riverview just like his brother. He, too, was a bright student.

When December came, Jenny and her husband arrived in Australia to spend the month with Jean and her family. It was wonderful to have Jenny there – she was no longer a student, and she and Jean became close friends and confidantes.

"Jean, do you ever regret having to leave your job?" Jenny asked her as they strolled through the streets of Sydney.

"Sometimes," Jean replied. "Though it never was the same after you girls left my care, I still miss teaching. But I would not trade my family for a chance to go back to teaching."

"Are you happy, Jean?" Jenny asked her.

Jean stopped and looked at Jenny. "No, I'm not happy," Jean admitted. "I'm not happy at all."

"Why not, Jean?" she asked.

"Oh, Jenny... married life is difficult. And Teddy... well, Teddy is not really suited to being a husband," Jean explained. "He's more suited to being a lover."

"What do you mean?" she asked her former teacher confusingly.

"Well, he's not very, well, stable," Jean explained. "He enjoys flirting with other women, you see."

"Does he have affairs?" Jenny asked Jean.

"He did," Jean replied. "He was away for nearly three years on an exhibition," Jean said. "Travelling through Europe. And he had many affairs in Europe, and when he returned he continued them, at least until I became pregnant the second time."

"What did you do while he was away?" Jenny asked. "Did you just stay and wait for him?"

"No," Jean replied, looking wistful. "I began an affair with Edward, Teddy's cousin."

"Do you love him?" Jenny asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "I do love him, but not as much as I love Teddy. I don't know, Jenny... I don't know why I love Teddy when he doesn't love me as I need to be loved, while Edward does love me in that way."

"I am sorry, Jean," Jenny said.

"It's all right," Jean said. "I am used to complications in my life. I just hope that your life is far smoother and peaceful than mine."

"Thank you, Jean," Jenny said. Jean smiled down at her former student, and they walked back to Jean's house.

The rest of the month passed quickly, and Christmas came. Early in the morning, Duncan and William woke up their parents, and they all went downstairs. Jenny and Richard were woken up by Jean's sons as well.

They all gathered around the Christmas tree, the boys beginning to unwrap their presents while the maid brought in a tray laden with breakfast.

William opened the first present, from Jenny and Richard. It was a copy of Winnie-the-Pooh.

"Thank you!" William exclaimed.

Duncan opened their present next, a set of paints. "Thank you," Duncan said with enthusiasm.

Jenny and Richard opened their present from Jean and Teddy next – a pair of tickets for them so that they could visit in two years' time.

"Thank you, Jean," Jenny said, leaning across to kiss her former teacher on the cheek.

Jean then opened her present from Jenny and Richard – it was a reproduction of John William Waterhouse's painting "The Lady of Shalott".

"Thank you, Jenny; it's wonderful," Jean said, setting the painting aside.

An hour later, the doorbell rang, and Jean stood up to answer the door. It was Edward, his arms loaded down with parcels.

"Happy Christmas, Edward," Jean said, taking some of the parcels out of his arms.

"Happy Christmas, Jean," he replied, stepping into the house. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. She beamed up at him.

"We're all in the living room," Jean said, leading the way.

"Look who's here!" Jean called out.

"Uncle Eddy!" the boys exclaimed, scrambling towards him. They swamped him with hugs.

"Happy Christmas, boys," Edward said, ruffling their hair.

"Are those presents for us?" William asked. Edward laughed.

"Yes, they are," he said, handing each of the boys a few presents.

Duncan received a set of books about painting and a child-sized easel; William got a building set and a set of toy soldiers.

After the boys had finished opening their presents, they played with their new toys while the grown-ups had tea and watched the boys play.

After tea, Jenny and Richard went upstairs to pack – they were leaving the next day. Jean picked up the wrapping paper that was strewn about and then tidied up her sons' toys, while Teddy and Edward talked.

The day passed quietly, and their big Christmas dinner was the main event of the day. Jenny found the sixpence in the Christmas pudding. After their Christmas dinner, Jean tucked her boys into bed. Jenny and Richard said good night, as they had to get up early the next morning. Teddy and Jean said good night to Edward, who pressed a small present into Jean's hand before he left.

Jean and Teddy went up to their room to exchange their personal gifts to each other. Jean hid the present from Edward in her nightstand and got out Teddy's present. He joined her on the bed and handed Jean her present, and she handed him his present.

Jean opened her present first, revealing a beautiful new watch, the face of which was set about with diamonds. Engraved on the back were the words "To my darling wife, love Teddy."

"Thank you, Teddy," Jean said, carefully placing the watch back in its box before kissing him.

After they pulled back from the kiss, Teddy opened his present. Jean had bought him a nice new set of paints and a fine set of sable paintbrushes.

"Thank you, Jean," Teddy said, kissing her again. "Happy Christmas, darling."

"Happy Christmas," Jean replied, snuggling into her husband's embrace. He kissed her lightly.

"I love you, Jean darling," he said, smiling lovingly down at her.

"I love you, too," Jean replied.

The next morning Jean woke up early to drive Jenny and Richard to the dock. Jean and Jenny promised to write to each other, and Jenny and Richard would return in two years to spend Christmas with the Lloyds.

"Goodbye, Jenny," Jean said, embracing her former student.

"Goodbye, Jean," Jenny replied. "See you in two years."

"See you in two years," Jean repeated. She waved as she watched the ship depart, then drove back home.

Her husband was still asleep when she returned, so she took the present Edward had given her last night out of her nightstand. She walked downstairs to the living room and opened it.

It was a beautiful charm bracelet, each of the charms representing something special in her life. There was a charm representing Scotland and a charm shaped like Australia. There were two locket-like charms that held pictures of her two sons. There was a tiny charm with a portrait of the Mona Lisa, another shaped like a paintbrush and palette, and, finally, a heart. There was a tiny clasp on the heart-shaped charm, and she opened it.

"All my love, Edward," it read. Tears came to Jean's eyes. She had never received a gift that had so much thought put into it. She immediately fastened the bracelet around her wrist – it looked wonderful. Edward was so marvellous – and she did love him, even though she loved Teddy more.

"I love you, Edward," she whispered, even though he was not there. "I love you."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

* * *

Happy holidays! As always, this story is dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

* * *

New Years' came. Though both of their boys wanted to stay up to celebrate, Duncan was the only one who did, as William fell asleep long before midnight. Jean and Teddy had invited Edward to join them, but he had declined.

Later that night, after the clock struck midnight, they were quite surprised to hear the doorbell ring, just as she, her husband, and her elder son were just finishing singing "Auld Lang Synge". Jean walked to the door and opened it, revealing Edward.

"Edward!" she exclaimed. "Happy New Year," she said, stretching up to kiss his cheek. "Won't you come in?"

"Thank you, Jean. These are for you," he said, presenting her with a bag. She opened it, and found it held a small container of salt, a bit of coal, some shortbread, and a small bottle of whisky. She smiled happily up at him. "It is good luck for your first visitor to be a dark-haired man, isn't it?" he asked her.

"Yes, it is," she said as he stepped over the threshold. "Especially a handsome dark-haired man." She smiled up at him, and he returned her smiled, before she led him into the living room. He joined Duncan and Teddy on the couch.

"I'll get some glasses, shall I, and then we can have the whisky?" Jean suggested, and the men nodded. She went into the kitchen and came back bearing three whisky glasses and a glass of milk for Duncan. Jean set the tray on the table and handed the glass of milk to her son while her husband poured the whisky into the glasses. Once the whisky had been poured out, Teddy handed the glasses to Edward and Jean, keeping one for himself.

"Slàinte," Teddy said.

"Slàinte," Jean, Edward, and Duncan replied, clinking their glasses together. They drank to their continuing health and happiness in the New Year.

After the toast, Duncan began to nod off.

"Up you get," Teddy said, picking his son up. He carried him up the stairs, leaving Jean and Edward downstairs together.

"Thank you for the gifts, Edward," Jean said, placing her hand on his cheek.

"You're wearing the bracelet," he said, holding her other hand.

"Of course, Edward," she said, smiling at him. "It was the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given to me. I love it – I love you," she said, caressing his cheek.

"I'm glad," he replied.

"Happy New Year, Edward," Jean whispered as the clock struck one.

"Happy New Year, Jean," he replied. She kissed him lightly on the lips before pulling back.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jean said. "Well, later today."

"I'll see you then," Edward said, standing up from the couch. Jean walked him to the door.

"Good night, Edward," she said, stretching up to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"Good night, Jean," he replied, and walked out into the night.

Jean went upstairs to join her husband in bed.

"Happy New Year, darling," he said, once she had changed and climbed into bed with him. He kissed her lightly.

"Happy New Year, Teddy," she replied, returning his kiss. She snuggled up in his embrace and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

1945 was both the happiest and the saddest year of Teddy and Jean's marriage. The Second World War ended, Hitler and Mussolini were overthrown, and everything settled down. Teddy and Jean's marriage had never been stronger, and Jean had never been happier, at least until Edward was asked to reinstate his role in the Australian Parliament. He accepted, and thus would be spending most of the month in Canberra, returning to Sydney for a week every month.

"Why are you leaving?" Jean asked Edward, just before he boarded the train to Canberra.

"I know that I'm in the way between you and Teddy," Edward confessed. "I need to stay out of your way, my dear."

"Oh, Edward," she sighed unhappily. "I don't want you to leave me."

"It'll only be for a few years," he reassured her. "And I'll be back once a month."

The train whistle blew, and Edward looked down at her. "I must go, darling," he said. "I love you."

She clung to him. "I love you, too, Edward," she whispered, kissing him. Tears fell down her face. "Please don't leave me."

"I must, darling," he said. He bent down and kissed her again. He stepped out of her embrace and, with one final kiss to her lips, boarded the train. He waved as the train departed, and she waved as well, standing there until she could no longer see the train. She slowly walked back to the car and sat there for a few moments, composing herself, before she drove back home.

* * *

That night, Teddy was more amorous than he had been since they had first married. Jean, though she enjoyed making love to her husband – well, enjoy was an understatement – missed Edward. But that night, as soon as they had tucked their sons into bed, Teddy took his wife's hand and led her into their room. He pulled her down on top of him on her bed, and she placed her hands on his chest, smiling down at him.

"I love you, darling," she said as he trailed his hands down her back, pulling down the zipper of her dress.

"And I love you, Jean," he said, her dress pooling around her waist. She could feel his erection pressing against her, and she shivered with excitement. He reached up to unfasten her bra while her nimble fingers made short work of the buttons on his shirt. He tossed her bra behind them and pulled her down for a kiss.

She broke out of the kiss as she felt his erection press insistently against her abdomen.

"Mmm, Teddy," she whispered as she unfastened his trousers. She rolled off him for a moment to discard her dress and her knickers, while he pulled off his trousers and let them fall on the floor, before pulling his wife back on top of him. He kissed the side of her neck as she smiled happily, bringing her hand down to his erection, stroking it as he moaned against her neck.

"Jean, my darling," he whispered, and, rolling her onto her back, continued to kiss her neck, trailing lower and lower as she gasped beneath his touch.

He rolled onto his back, holding her on top of him. She took his erection in hand once again and guided it into her.

"Oh, yes!" Jean moaned as she moved on top of him. He gripped her hips tightly and pulled her down on top of him repeatedly. "Oh, God, yes, Teddy, yes!" she cried out as she began to come, her head dropping back in her ecstasy. Once more he rolled her onto her back and pumped into her. A few moments later, he joined her in rapture.

They lay there, recovering, their limbs entangled, as Jean rested her head against his chest.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jean," he whispered, stroking her golden hair softly. He wrapped one shining lock around his index finger. Her hair had grown so much longer since they first married – it now cascaded down around her shoulders.

"I love you, too, Teddy," she replied, looking up at him lovingly. "I love you so much." She yawned slightly.

"Tired, love?" he asked her, and she nodded sleepily.

"Mmm, yes," she replied, yawning again. "Good night, Teddy."

"Good night, Jean," he replied. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, snuggling up to her husband and falling asleep, wrapped warmly and safely in her husband's arms.

* * *

Edward had a difficult time adjusting to not seeing Jean and the boys every day. He longed for Jean, missed seeing her beautiful face; he missed hearing her voice and feeling the texture of her skin against his. Though he enjoyed his work, he looked forward to his week in Sydney more than anything.

He wrote to her every day, and she wrote back just as frequently.

My dearest, most darling Jean,

I miss you so much. Canberra, while a lovely city, does not have you, and, as such, is the most dismal place in the world. Oh, God, Jean – I miss you, I miss you so much. I wish that I had never left, but I felt called to serve my country. Jean, I cannot wait until next Saturday, when I will hopefully be able to return to Sydney for a week.

How are you, my darling? How are the boys? And how is Teddy? I hope that you all are well. I hope that your relationship with Teddy is well and hopefully helped by my absence. I hope so, darling – I just want you to be happy, after all.

I love you, Jean.

All my love,

Edward.

Dearest, darling Edward,

Why did you have to leave me? Oh, why did you have to leave me? Edward, I miss you so much – and I'm not the only one. The boys miss you terribly as well, especially Duncan. You do know that he is closer to you than he is to Teddy, after all.

The boys are fine, and both of them are doing well in school, though they miss you. Teddy is doing well too. And yes, our marriage is fine right now – in fact, it's better than it has been in years. Well, at least he is remaining faithful to me, and is coming home more often. And he has been much more amorous than usual. But every time he touches me, Edward, I think of you.

I hope that everything is well in Canberra, and I hope that you will be able to come home next week, as planned. I miss you, darling, and I love you so much.

I love you,

Jean.

Unfortunately, Edward was not able to return to Sydney that month, nor for the next three months. Jean missed him terribly and longed for him every day. She lost a bit of weight as a result of her longing for Edward. Other than her slight weight loss, she hid her longing for Edward quite well. Her husband was quite unaware of her yearning for his cousin.

Teddy, on the other hand, was quite happy to have his cousin in Canberra, and very happy to have his wife all to himself. He did love her, and without Edward in the picture, he felt freer to express his love to Jean.

They made love with far more frequency than they had in the past five years of their marriage. Now that their children no longer woke them up in the middle of the night, Jean and Teddy had far more energy and time to make love, which they took advantage of. Jean loved being so intimate with her husband, but every time she closed her eyes when he touched her, she thought of Edward.

She was torn between the two men, and she did not know what to do. She loved them both, after all. But she knew that she would never leave Teddy, no matter how much she loved Edward.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie. Don't worry – this is not the last chapter!

* * *

A few weeks before the winter term began for their boys, Teddy was offered a job at the National Art School. He accepted, and taught a class on portraiture Wednesdays through Saturdays.

After Teddy began his new job, Jean took the boys down to Canberra for a few days to visit with Edward. He met them at the station late in the evening on the third Wednesday of November.

"Hello, Edward," Jean said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Hello, Jean," he replied, beaming down at her. He tore his gaze away from her to look down at her sons.

"Hello, boys!" he said, tousling their hair. "Welcome to Canberra."

"Thank you," they replied, and Edward took their bags and led them to the car. He drove them to his house, a beautiful, stately townhouse near the Parliament building.

Edward brought the boys up to their room first, and Jean unpacked for them while Edward helped to bathe the boys. An hour later, when the boys had been tucked into their beds and were fast asleep, Edward showed Jean to her room.

"Why don't you freshen up and then join me downstairs for a nightcap?" Edward suggested.

"All right," Jean said, kissing him lightly. "I'm glad that we're here."

"As am I," he replied, kissing her again. "I'll be downstairs."

She nodded and he left her bedroom.

Thirty minutes later, Jean joined Edward downstairs, clad in her thin silk dressing gown.

"What would you like to drink, Jean?" Edward asked her.

"Whatever you're having," she replied, and he nodded, pouring out two scotches, before joining her on the couch. He handed her the glass, and she smiled at him, taking a sip from her glass. They sat there in comfortable silence, just gazing at each other. Once they had finished their drinks, Jean yawned.

"Tired, Jean?" he asked her, and she nodded. "I'll walk you up to bed, then," he said.

"Thank you," she replied, yawning again. Once they had reached her bedroom, she crawled between the sheets.

"Good night, Jean," Edward said, kissing her lightly. She caught his hand before he stepped back.

"Won't you stay with me, Edward?" Jean asked him.

He smiled down at her. "All right," he said. "Let me just get changed."

"Don't be long, darling," she said, and he nodded, walking into his bedroom. He returned fifteen minutes later, and was greeted by one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen – Jean Brodie Lloyd, sitting up in bed, her golden-blonde hair falling about her shoulders, her blue eyes twinkling, her lips curled into a smile. He returned the smile and climbed between the sheets, joining Jean in bed.

"What time should we set the alarm for tomorrow morning?" Edward asked.

"Hmm, I suppose seven o'clock," Jean replied. He nodded and wound the alarm clock, setting it down on the nightstand again.

"Good night, Edward," Jean said, stretching up to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss.

"Good night, my darling," Edward replied. She smiled up at Edward and snuggled into his arms.

"I love you," Jean said.

"I love you, too," Edward replied, kissing her forehead lightly. They drifted off to sleep.

Their time in Canberra passed very quickly. Edward had taken them all around the city, and the boys had truly enjoyed their time with Edward – so did Jean. She slept in his arms every night, warm and safe in his embrace. They did not, however, make love while she stayed with him. Neither of them wanted the boys to accidentally walk in on them making love, nor have them inadvertently tell Teddy about their sleeping arrangements. But it was enough just to lie in his arms at night; feel the steady beat of his heart against her cheek; smell his unique, manly scent; feel his body against hers; hear the deep, soothing tones of his voice. Their relationship was based on far more than just sex, quite unlike her relationship with her husband. Their relationship, after all, had begun with them falling into bed with each other, and was, at times, only sustained by sex. She knew that Teddy loved her, but it seemed that the only time he showed her his love was in bed. Edward was so different – their physical relations were only a meagre portion of how he showed her his love.

Saturday came, and Jean and the boys left for Sydney once more. Jean and Edward had said their goodbyes early that morning, before they had woken up the boys.

"I don't want to go," Jean said, clinging to him.

"And I don't want you to go," Edward said, caressing her cheek. "I love you so much, Jean."

"And I love you, Edward," she replied, burying her face against his chest. She began to cry. "I've been happier here with you than I have in quite some time."

"And I haven't been happier since Teddy came back," Edward said, stroking her hair. "I love you, Jean."

She pulled back from him and smiled up at him sadly. "I suppose we should wake up the boys and get ready to go."

"All right, Jean," he replied. He bent down and kissed her once more. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Teddy met them at the train station, and they drove back to the house, the boys asleep in the backseat of the car.

"How is Edward?" Teddy asked Jean.

"He's doing well," Jean replied. "He took a few days off and showed us around Canberra."

"That's nice," Teddy replied. He looked over at her lovingly and placed his left hand on her knee. She looked at him. "I'm glad you're back, Jean – it's been lonely without you." She smiled up at him.

"It's good to be home," she said, and she even believed it to be true.

* * *

Edward was only able to come back for Christmas and New Year's, and had to go back to Canberra on the second of January. Once more, however, he declined to spend the New Year with them so that he could be the First Footer. This year, William had stayed up as well, and Edward joined them in singing "Auld Lang Synge".

He had to leave the next day, to return to Canberra. He was quickly becoming disenchanted with his work – he did not like being away from Jean so much, and he missed the boys as well. But he was committed to his country, and was committed to serving his country as long as he could, even at the expense of his own happiness. And he could not bring himself to return to Sydney and possibly damage Jean and Teddy's happiness. He wanted Jean to be happy, and if his absence meant that her marriage was safe, then he would stay away from Sydney.

* * *

The years passed quietly for the Lloyds. Teddy was very happy teaching at the National Art School, and, now that he had a steady job once more, Jean did not worry about him starting another affair. He did flirt with many of his female students, however, but Jean pushed that aside. His drinking, at least, had stopped being so excessive, as he would not be allowed to show up drunk for work.

Duncan and William progressed very well at school, both of them topping their forms. Jean, incredibly lonely at home, began to write short stories about her life in Edinburgh. They were published in Meanjin magazine, where they were received with great acclaim.

Jenny and her husband Richard visited the Lloyds for Christmas every two years. On their third visit, they brought their eighteen-month-old daughter, whom they had named Jean Helen Quigley. Their daughter was beautiful, with red-gold hair just like Jenny's. The boys were quite fond of her – William, now eight, and Duncan, now twelve, were quite mature for their age, and enjoyed spending time with the baby. Jenny and Richard enjoyed the extra help that Jean provided in looking after the baby – they were able to get a good night's sleep. Teddy was not much help, but then again, he never was much help with the children. And he was busy with work.

Edward, unfortunately, was still working in Canberra; though he had thought that he would resume his retirement after a year – two at the most – he was still needed in Canberra four years after he returned to Parliament. And he was not able to return to Sydney nearly as often as he would like – he was only able to return during the holidays. As was now tradition, Edward was their First-Footer.

Even though Edward was only able to return to Sydney during the holidays, Jean took the boys to visit once a month for a weekend, and took them for two weeks during their summer holidays. Jean was not worried about her husband having an affair while she was gone, though he did flirt quite a lot with women.

During these visits, Jean and Edward never made love, though they were both incredibly tempted. They did spend every night in each other's arms.

* * *

One day, when Duncan was thirteen, after they returned from a weekend in Canberra, he asked Jean if they could talk.

"Mum, can we talk?" Duncan asked her one afternoon.

"Of course, darling," Jean said.

"Can we go for a walk?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied, standing up from the couch. They walked outside and began to walk to the park.

"Now, what do you want to talk to me about, dear?" Jean asked as they strolled through the park.

"Do you remember, when I was about four, coming to the park and seeing Daddy kissing another woman?" Duncan asked his mother.

She stiffened. "Yes, I do."

"Did Daddy have a lot of affairs?" he asked.

"Yes, he did; at least until I became pregnant with William," Jean said. She had never believed in lying to her children, and so she was perfectly frank with Duncan.

"Are you in love with Daddy?" he asked.

"Of course I am, darling," Jean said. "Why don't we sit down?" she suggested, leading her son to a bench. "Now, Duncan, why are you asking all these questions?"

"Mum, are you also in love with Uncle Edward?"

She smiled sadly at him. "Yes, I am."

"I thought so," he replied.

"I love your father more, Duncan," Jean explained. "But I do love Edward."

"Does Daddy know that you are in love with Uncle Edward too?"

"Yes, he does," Jean admitted. Her son took the news calmly.

"Why don't you divorce Daddy and marry Uncle Edward, then?" Duncan asked her coolly.

She looked at him, utterly shocked. "I could never leave your father, darling – I love him so much."

"It's not because of us, then, is it?" Duncan asked. "Because you know that William and I are more fond of Uncle Edward than we are of Daddy – I'm sorry, Mum, but it's true."

"I know it is," Jean said sadly. "I'll never forget when you told me that you were scared of your father a few months after he returned from Europe."

"I remember that, too," Duncan said.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes.

"Duncan, I want you to know that I do love you and your brother so much," Jean said. "I hope that you know that."

"We do know that, Mum, and we love you too," Duncan replied, kissing her on the cheek.

"Shall we go home?" she suggested, and Duncan nodded. They took the long way back to their house.

* * *

A few months after Jean and Duncan's talk, Edward retired from Parliament for the second time and moved back to Sydney. Jean was thrilled – of late, her husband's behaviour had become increasingly erratic. He was drinking far more than usual and was flirting with many more women. He was also feeling quite ill. For nearly a year, Jean tried to convince him to see a doctor, but he kept on postponing his appointments. Finally, Edward got involved, and Teddy agreed to see a doctor. He was diagnosed with liver cancer, and, at the age of sixty-one, was given only three more months to live. Had he gone to the doctor earlier, the cancer would have been operable, but, as he had refused to see a doctor, the cancer had gone unchecked and had metastised.

He quit his job at the National Art School and ensconced himself at home, surrounding himself with his family. For the first time, he actually spent substantial amounts of time with his sons. He spent much of his time painting as well, finishing one final portrait of his wife. And, of course, he spent much time in bed with Jean.

Two months after his diagnosis, they made love for the last time. Teddy was quite sick by that point, and no longer had the stamina to make love to Jean long into the night.

Jean and Teddy took their time, Jean on top, as he could no longer support himself over her. She moved on top of him slowly, being careful not to hurt him. They came simultaneously, Jean collapsing on top of her husband. They lay there quietly, and Jean began to cry.

"Oh, Teddy," she sobbed. "I don't want you to die!"

"I don't want to die either, Jean," he replied, letting his own tears drip down his face. He stroked her long golden hair, now with a few strands of white interspersed amongst the gold. "I love you so much."

"And I love you, Teddy," she said. "Oh, God, how I love you."

After they had made love for what they knew had been the last time, Teddy's health declined rapidly. He refused to be brought to the hospital, wanting to spend his last month with his family.

A few days later, Teddy telephoned Edward when Jean was out to pick up the boys and asked him to come over for a talk. He came over right away.

"Edward, I want to talk to you about Jean," Teddy began.

"Yes?" Edward asked.

"When I die, I want you to marry her," he said bluntly.

"Teddy!" he exclaimed, shocked.

"I know that you love her, Edward, and, despite my behaviour, I love her too. I want her to be happy, and I know that she still loves you. I know, Edward, that you will treat her better than I ever did, as much as it pains me to admit it. And I know that Duncan and William are far closer to you than they are to me. It will be best for everyone if you two get married. Please, Edward – do it for me, for Jean, for the boys."

"If that's what you want, Teddy, then I will," Edward said.

"I do want you to," he replied.

"I will, then," Edward said.

"Thank you," Teddy sighed, relieved. The boys and Jean came in.

"Hello Edward; hello Teddy," Jean said, walking over to her husband and his cousin. She kissed Edward on the cheek and kissed Teddy on the lips. The two men smiled at her, and she joined Teddy on the couch. Duncan and William went upstairs to set down their school things. They rejoined the adults a few minutes later, and the Lloyds spent a very happy evening together in front of the fire.

Later that night, Jean and Edward helped Teddy up to bed.

"Thank you for everything, Edward," Teddy said gratefully.

"You're welcome, Teddy," Edward replied. They exchanged a smile, and then Edward left the room. Their sons came in a few moments later.

"Good night, Daddy; I love you," Duncan said. William repeated him. Each of them kissed their father on his cheek.

"I love you, boys," Teddy said, tousling their hair. "Sleep well."

A half an hour later, Jean joined her husband in bed.

"Jean," Teddy began. "When I die, I want you to marry Edward."

"Are you sure, Teddy?" Jean asked him.

"Yes, I'm sure," he replied.

"Then I will," she said simply.

"I am sorry for not being a good husband to you over these years," he apologised. "I love you, darling."

"I love you, too, Teddy," she replied, kissing him. "I love you so much."

They fell asleep.

* * *

Eight hours later, Jean woke up for the morning, and turned to her husband. He wasn't breathing.

"Teddy?" she asked him, feeling for his heartbeat. There was none. "Teddy?" she asked again, growing more panicked by the moment. "Teddy?!" she screamed. She had known that it was coming, but she had not wanted to believe it.

Her sons came rushing in.

"Mummy, what's wrong?" William asked. His mother was bent over his father's body, sobbing.

Duncan went out of the room and telephoned Edward; five minutes later, Edward arrived and went up to the bedroom, where he gently pulled Jean away from the body.

"Duncan, telephone the doctor; William, help me bring your mother downstairs," Edward said. They did as they were told.

Two hours later, the doctor came downstairs after examining the body.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Lloyd," the doctor said, filling out the death certificate. He handed it to Edward, who showed him out.

Three days later, Teddy was buried in the Sydney cemetery. After his funeral, Jean was a bit relieved. She had loved Teddy, loved him for the best years of her life, but she would no longer have to put up with his infidelities or his moods. But she had loved him, loved him so much, and now he was gone.

A week after Teddy's death, Jean and the boys moved in to Edward's home. That night, after the boys had been put to bed, Jean and Edward sat down for a nightcap.

"When are you going to propose to me, Edward?" Jean asked him.

"Right now," Edward said, pulling a small black box out of his pocket. He knelt in front of her. "Jean, will you marry me?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, crying as he slipped a large diamond ring on her finger. She had removed the engagement ring Teddy had given her after his funeral, and had put it away. She had also taken off her wedding ring, and had placed the rings in her jewellery box. She could not bear to look at them – the sight of them made her long for her husband.

"I love you, Jean," Edward said, stroking her cheek.

"I love you, too, Edward," she replied, smiling through her tears.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

* * *

Three months after Teddy's death, Jean and Edward were married in a small private ceremony at the courthouse. Jean's sons were their witnesses.

After the ceremony, they returned to Matlock Island for two months. Edward's housekeeper, Mrs. Finlay, would be looking after the boys while Jean and Edward were away.

They had decided to return to Matlock Island, the place where they had first made love, the place where their romance had first begun, over twelve years ago. Rob Walter, the manager of the resort, was still there, and he had given them the same cabin they had all those years ago.

* * *

Jean had coped with Teddy's death remarkably well – after the first week, at least. But the first week was awful for her – she would not leave her room, and curled up on the bed, weeping into one of Teddy's old shirts, clutching it to her chest. She refused to eat, except for a few pieces of toast, refused to leave the room, refused to talk to anyone, even Edward. But after the funeral, she began to pull herself together, and she had accepted the fact that her husband was dead by the time she and Edward married.

She loved them both, and, even though she missed Teddy, that chapter of her life was over. She was ready to move on with Edward, who loved her, whom she loved.

* * *

As soon as they reached their cottage, Edward and Jean unpacked their things and went to bed. Both of them were very tired from their long journey.

A few hours later, Edward woke up, and, looking down at his wife, smiled. He could not believe that he was married to the love of his life, Jean Brodie Lloyd. To him, she was even more beautiful than the first day they had met, even though Time had left its mark. She had a few wrinkles now, and a few strands of white in her otherwise shining gold hair. Age had been far less kind to him; at sixty-five, he now had a full head of grey hair and quite a few wrinkles, but then he was fifteen years older than her.

Jean began to stir, opening her beautiful blue eyes.

"Hello, Edward," she said, smiling softly up at him.

"Hello, Jean," he replied, kissing her lightly. She wrapped her arms around him, encouraging him to lie on top of her. She broke out of the kiss with a gasp as she felt his erection growing firm against her abdomen.

"Oh, Edward, I love you," she whispered as he kissed her neck. She reached down to stroke his erection, and he pulled back from her, looking down into his wife's eyes.

"I love you, Jean," he said, and entered her.

He had not been inside her for nearly thirteen years – they had consciously refrained from having sex before they had married, even though they were sleeping together, in the more traditional sense, at least – and it took all of his willpower not to lose control.

"Oh, God, Edward!" she cried, rolling her hips against his. She wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him to thrust harder within her. "Oh, yes!" she yelled as she began to come. He climaxed as well, falling on top of her.

She snuggled up in his arms, resting her head against his chest, her legs entangled with his. She tried to catch her breath – making love with him now was infinitely better than it had been the last time they had made love, nearly thirteen years ago.

"Oh, Edward," she sighed happily. "That was wonderful."

"Mmm, yes, it was," he replied, nuzzling her hair.

"I love you, Edward," she said, kissing his chest.

"And I love you, darling," he replied, stroking her hair.

"You don't regret waiting for me for nearly thirteen years?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Of course not, Jean," he said, looking down at her, shocked. "Why would you think that?"

"I know that I'm not pretty anymore," she told him. "I'm old – fifty! I can no longer have children. Would you really have married me if Teddy had not asked you to?"

"Jean, you are more beautiful to me now than when we first met. And your age doesn't matter to me in the slightest – I'm fifteen years older than you, after all. As for children, you know that I love your boys as though they were mine. I would have asked you to marry me even if Teddy's last wishes were for me to never see you again. I love you, Jean – I've never loved anyone else."

"I love you, too, Edward," she replied, kissing him again. She smiled up at him, then rolled out of bed. "I'll make us some tea, all right?"

He got out of bed as well. "Why don't we go for a swim afterwards?" he asked.

"All right," she smiled at him, and they walked through to the kitchen.

After their tea, Jean and Edward went for a swim, making love in the ocean, on the beach, back in their room... They had not been together for so long, and both of them wanted to make up for their lost time.

Jean loved making love with Edward – he was so considerate, so wonderful – he pleasured her first before allowing himself release. He was so wonderful, so loving, so caring – but sometimes she just wanted him to take the initiative when they made love, not always seek her permission. She wanted him to step outside of the box, like Teddy had. But they had time, and, with time, he would hopefully lose his inhibitions.

Edward was careful when he made love to Jean, always restraining himself. She was such a treasure to him, and he never wanted to hurt her or make her feel like she was not the most precious thing in his life. He always wanted her to know that she came first for him, before all others. He loved Jean, loved her with all his heart, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Later that afternoon, after lunch, they called the boys. Both Duncan and William were well, and they each talked to Jean and Edward for a few minutes.

After their phone call, Edward made them a simple dinner of pasta. They ate it outside on the verandah, overlooking the ocean.

After dinner, they washed up together and then went for a walk along the beach.

"I can't believe we're here again, after nearly thirteen years," Jean said, looking up at her husband lovingly.

"Nor can I," Edward replied, squeezing her hand lightly. "I have loved you for so long, darling, and I am so glad to be your husband."

"As am I," Jean replied. "I love you, Edward." She stepped into his embrace, and they watched the sun set.

After their walk, Jean went to bed – she was still quite tired from planning their wedding, even though it had been very small and private. Her husband's death had taken quite a toll on her strength, and she was still recovering, even three months later. She fell asleep almost immediately.

Edward sat out on the verandah for a bit, smoking a cigarette. He stared out at the ocean and thought of his wife.

He loved her, he did, and he could not believe that they were married at long last. He wanted nothing more than to take care of her, love her, and cherish her for the rest of their lives.

He reached the end of his cigarette and stubbed it out. He then walked into their bedroom and got undressed, slipping into bed next to his new wife. She turned towards him in her sleep, seeking out his warmth. He smiled tenderly down at her and enfolded Jean into his embrace. He fell asleep, his head resting against hers, their arms wrapped around each other.

* * *

Edward woke up first once more and slipped out of bed to make breakfast. Jean woke up while he was in the kitchen.

"Edward?" she called out, sitting up in bed.

"I'm in the kitchen!" he called back. She got out of bed and shrugged into her dressing gown, then padded into the kitchen. He was standing at the oven, making an omelette. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She rested her cheek against his upper back.

"Good morning," she said. He turned in her arms, bending down to kiss her nose lightly. She smiled up at him.

"Good morning, Jean," he replied, turning back around to take the omelette off the gas. He split the omelette in half and put half on each plate.

"Shall we eat outside?" Jean suggested, going to the drawer to pull out two sets of silverware and two napkins. He brought the plates outside and she followed him. They had a quiet, simple breakfast outside.

"Edward?" she asked her husband later that afternoon as they lay on the beach.

"Yes, darling?" he asked, rolling onto his side to look down at her.

She blushed. "I don't know how to say it," she said.

He smiled down at her. "You can tell me anything, darling – I hope you know that," he said.

"I do," she replied, smiling again, though she was still blushing. "Edward, when we make love, I was wondering if you would... well, if you would... take more initiative in bed, I suppose," she said, her face flushed.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, confused.

"I love it when you make love to me, Edward, I do – I was just wondering if you would, well, not seek my permission for everything. I appreciate it, I do," she said, reassuring him, "But you don't need to. I love you, Edward, and more importantly, I trust you, and I know that you love me and won't hurt me. Please, won't you take me the way you want to?" she asked him.

"Are you sure, Jean?" he asked her, caressing her cheek.

"Oh, yes, Edward," she replied, her breathing growing faster as his hand slipped down to her breasts. He spread her legs, kneeling between them, and lifted her ankles up to his shoulders.

He guided his erection into her, beginning to pump within her. Jean's head dropped back and she moaned. Opening her eyes, she watched his face as he thrust. His eyes were closed and his face bore an expression of utter concentration. She began to come, and she could no longer see his face. She was lost in a state of utter bliss and could only feel the waves of pleasure that washed over her. Finally, she drifted down from the heights of ecstasy and looked down at her husband, whose head was resting against her chest. She stroked his hair lightly, and he looked up at her.

"Edward, that was wonderful," she whispered, "Absolutely marvellous." She had never reached those heights of pleasure with Edward before, and only rarely with Teddy in the later years of their marriage.

"It was," Edward agreed, propping himself up on his elbow. He stroked her hair, smiling down at her.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," he replied, pushing himself up off the sand. He extended a hand down to Jean, and she took it, standing up.

She stepped into his embrace and kissed him. "I love you, Edward," she said.

He smiled down at her. "I love you, too."

* * *

Jean and Edward spent the rest of their honeymoon making love and making up for lost time. They called the boys once a week and Jean wrote to them three times a week, mailing the postcards from the general store.

In addition to their love-making, Jean and Edward walked along the beaches, went swimming, and just enjoyed their time together. It was the first time in nearly thirteen years they were alone together, and now they had two months together. Jean loved spending time with her husband – she and Edward got along so well, much better than she and Teddy had.

In 1930, she had seen Noel Coward's play "Private Lives" at the King's Theatre in Edinburgh. She and Teddy were just like the two main characters, Elyot and Amanda, while Edward was like Victor – the stable, reliable husband.

A certain line of Amanda's clearly highlighted the ups and downs of their marriage: "I think very few people are completely normal really, deep down in their private lives. It all depends on a combination of circumstances. If all the various cosmic thingummys fuse at the same moment, and the right spark is struck, there's no knowing what one mightn't do. That was the trouble with Elyot and me, we were like two violent acids bubbling about in a nasty little matrimonial bottle." That quote almost perfectly described her first marriage – wild, tempestuous, passionate – but also unstable. Edward was so loving, so caring, and he was stable, reliable, and utterly, utterly wonderful to her. Edward just wanted to take care of her, protect her from the world, and shelter her. She loved that he thought that she was precious enough to love her in such a complete and caring way.

And she loved him too, loved him so much. He was her white knight, rescuing her from the ashes of her former marriage. But she was terrified that he had put her on a pedestal, that he only loved the image of her and not who she actually was. She hoped that this was not the case, for she did love him, did want him, did need him.

Later that day, after dinner, Jean talked to Edward about her past.

"I was engaged to a man named Hugh Carruthers during the Great War," Jean began. "He was six years older than me, and we met in Ayrshire, where we both grew up. He was the first man I ever kissed and the first man I ever slept with. I loved him so much, and I thought that I would never be able to move on after he died on Flanders' Field.

"The next serious relationship in my life was with Teddy. We fell in love as soon as I started at Marcia Blaine, and at the end of my first year of teaching, he asked if I would model for him. I agreed, and we tumbled into bed later that night. I fled to Italy and refused to return to the studio, at least until a few days before I was dismissed from Marcia Blaine.

"After Teddy there was Gordon Lowther, the music teacher. I had persuaded him to invite me to his home one weekend so that I would have an excuse not to join Teddy at the studio, and I seduced him. We were together for nearly four years, and then we slowly drifted apart. He married one of the other teachers, and the night that his engagement was announced, Teddy and I began our affair again.

"In between Gordon and Teddy, I had a few liaisons during my summer holidays. The longest one lasted two months, and that was my affair with a man in Italy. I also had a brief relationship with my dragoman during my holiday in Egypt in 1932.

"I thought that you deserved to know this, Edward," she said. "I know that I should have told you before we married, just in case you don't want me anymore. But I didn't, and I am sorry."

He smiled down at her. "I love you, Jean, and nothing will change that – not even if you slept with a hundred men," he said. "Thank you for telling me, though."

She smiled back at him. "You're not mad?" she asked hopefully.

"These affairs happened before I met you, darling – I won't judge you for decisions you made years before I knew you."

"Thank you," she sighed in relief, stepping into his arms. "I love you, Edward."

He kissed her on the forehead. "In the interest of full disclosure, I should tell you about my personal life," he said. "My first real romance was during my time at the London School of Economics. Her name was Moira Wharton, and she was my first love. We saw each other for about four years, but we ended our relationship because I wanted to return to Australia and she wanted to stay in England.

"My next relationship was with Heather Tenant. She was the younger sister of one of my friends from Parliament. I courted her for five years, but she ended the relationship when she realised I was not in love with her.

"I had three more relationships, each lasting about two years, and they all ended the same way, when they or I realised that the relationship would never progress to the marital stage. I had never thought that I would love anyone until I met you, my darling. I love you so much."

She smiled up at her husband. "I love you, too," she said and took his hand, leading him to bed.

* * *

Though it seemed as though time stood still on Matlock Island, their honeymoon eventually came to an end. Two months after they were married, Jean and Edward took the ferry back to Townsville and then flew back to Sydney. Edward hailed a cab, which drove them back to the house.

It was just after dinner, and the boys were seated in the living room, working on their homework.

"We're back!" Jean called out as they entered the house. The boys rushed into the hallway and swarmed their mother with hugs. "Hello, darlings," Jean said, laughing as they squeezed her tightly. She kissed their heads lightly. "Let me look at you two," Jean said, holding them back from her. They had both grown – William was nearly as tall as she was, and Duncan was a few centimetres taller than her. "You've both grown so much," she said, smiling at them. "Let's go into the living room, shall we?"

Edward came up behind them, carrying their bags. "Duncan, can you help Edward bring the suitcases upstairs?" Jean asked, and her older son nodded. Jean and William went into the living room.

"It's good to have you back, Mummy," William said, giving her a hug.

"It's good to be back," Jean said, returning her son's hug. Duncan and Edward came downstairs, and Edward joined Jean on the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into his embrace, smiling up at her husband.

"What are we supposed to call you now?" Duncan asked Edward. Jean looked up at Edward.

"You can call me Edward," he said.

"All right, Edward," Duncan said, testing his stepfather's name out. Jean yawned.

"Sorry, darlings," Jean apologised.

"That's all right, dear," Edward said, stroking her hair lightly. "Why don't you go up to bed?" She nodded and stood up from the sofa.

"Good night, my darlings," Jean said, kissing her sons' foreheads lightly. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Mummy," William said, standing up to give her a hug.

"Good night, Mum," Duncan said as well, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She smiled lovingly at her two sons, then turned to her husband, kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Good night," she said once more and went up to bed.

Edward and the boys stayed downstairs for another hour or so, then went up to bed. Jean was fast asleep, her golden hair shining in the dim light. Edward stood there for a moment, just looking at her. She was so beautiful, and he loved her so much. A few minutes later, he got changed into his pyjamas and slipped into bed next to his wife. She turned to him, still asleep, seeking out his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her and, with one final kiss to her lips, fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

Lines marked by an asterisk (*) are paraphrased from Robert Stephens' autobiography, Knight Errant.

* * *

Jean and Edward woke up early the next morning and got dressed, joining her sons for breakfast. After breakfast, Jean and Edward drove the boys to school, then drove into town to talk to the estate agent about selling Jean's house. They put the house on the market. Jean and Edward had decided to place the money from the sale of the house in trust for the two boys, so that they would have something to rely on when they grew up.

After their stop to the estate agent, Edward and Jean went to the bank to see the state of Jean's finances. Teddy had handled them, so Jean had no clue about the state of their economic affairs. She was quite shocked by the state of her finances. Teddy had squandered most of their money, leaving her with barely £100 in the bank. Jean was absolutely stunned. How could Teddy have done this – left his family with barely enough to live on for a month?

"Oh, my God," Jean murmured, her hand at her breast.

"Don't worry, Jean," Edward soothed her. "It will be fine. I have plenty of money for us to live comfortably."

"I can't take your money, Edward," she said, looking at him.

"We're married now, Jean – it's not my money, but our money," he replied, taking her hand. "I love you, Jean, and I want to take care of you and the boys."

She gave him a watery smile. "I love you, Edward," she said, squeezing his hand.

The banker returned to the room, carrying a safe deposit box. "Mrs. Lloyd, your husband also had a safe deposit box. I'll leave you to examine its contents." The banker exited the room.

With trembling fingers, she opened the safe deposit box. She withdrew a bundle of letters, addressed to her, to Edward, to her sons, to Deirdre, and to their six children. Jean gathered them together and put them in her handbag. A sheaf of papers was beneath the letters, and Jean rifled through them. They seemed to be his memoirs. And beneath the memoirs were a stack of photographs, all of them of Jean – Jean with their sons, Jean at Marcia Blaine, Jean on the boat from Edinburgh to Australia, Jean in Australia, Jean in Edinburgh with their boys... dozens of pictures of Jean. Jean placed the memoirs and the photographs in her bag as well, then rang the bell. The banker came back in.

"We'd like to close the safe deposit box, please," Jean said. "And we'd like to have the remaining balance of my accounts transferred to Mr. Lloyd's account."

"Of course," the banker said. A half an hour later, Edward and Jean left the bank and went back to their house.

When they returned, Jean and Edward went into the living room to read the letters. They were written a month before Teddy died.

"Dear Jean,

I am sorry for all the pain I have caused you. I know that by the time you read this, you will realise that there is very little money left in our account, a result of poor investment decisions. I am sorry, my darling – and I feel so guilty for not telling you about them. I just did not want you to worry.

Jean, I have loved you for years, and these past sixteen years have been the happiest years of my life – well, except the three years we were separated. I love you so much, Jean – you have been the true love of my life. You are so wonderful, my darling, my dearest love, and I love you so much – and I will love you forever.

I know that Edward will take care of you, and I hope that you will be happy with him. I love you so much, Jean, and I hope that you and the boys will be happy. I know that I was not the best father to them, or the best husband to you, and I apologise. I am glad that they are so close to Edward – it will be easier for them to move on.

Jean, I want you to know that I have never stopped loving you, and I will never stop loving you. You are my Muse, Jean Brodie Lloyd, and the one true love of my life.

I love you, forever and always.

Teddy."

Jean looked up from her letter, tears in her eyes. Edward was still reading his letter.

"Edward,

I am sorry to tell you that, as a result of very poor investments on my part, Jean and the boys have almost no money. I will admit that part of my motivation to make you promise to marry Jean, to make sure that she and the boys will be all right. I love her, Edward, even though my actions have often made her doubt it. I have loved her for over twenty years and I will never stop loving him.

I know that you love her too, Edward, and I hope that you can make her happy in the way that I never could. She does love you, Edward – I've heard her murmur your name in her sleep. Please take care of her and the boys for me – and I know that you will.

Could you please mail the letters to my first wife and our children? Thank you.

Thank you for everything,

Teddy."

Edward looked up from his letter and looked down at his wife. "Are you all right, Jean?" Edward asked. She nodded, a bit shaky. "Why don't you go up to bed, dear, and I'll bring you a nice, hot cup of tea," he suggested.

"All right," she said, standing up. She walked upstairs as though she was in a trance. Edward looked down at the seven letters he held in his hand, and walked outside to mail them. He went back inside and entered the kitchen, ordering a cup of tea for his wife. Five minutes later, he brought the tea upstairs to his wife. She was sitting up in bed, clutching a photograph to her chest, and crying. He placed the cup of tea on the nightstand and sat down next to her, embracing her.

"Oh, Jean," he sighed, rocking her back and forth. She clutched at him, sobbing. "Oh, my darling." Slowly her sobs stopped, and she looked up at him.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Jean, it's all right," he soothed her. She gave him a small, trembling smile, and set the photograph back down on the nightstand – it was a photograph of Jean and Teddy's wedding day. "Here, have some tea," he suggested, and she nodded, taking the cup and drinking it slowly. "A bit better?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Thank you, Edward," Jean said, curling up in his arms. He leaned back against the pillows, his wife in his arms, and kissed her forehead lightly. "What did your letter from Teddy say?" Jean asked.

"He asked me to take care of you and the boys," Edward said, stroking her hair. "And I will, I promise."

"Thank you, Edward," Jean said, smiling up at him.

Just then they heard the door slam downstairs.

"Mum, we're home!" Duncan called.

Jean sat up in bed. "I suppose we should give the boys their letters," she said, getting out of bed. They walked downstairs, hand in hand.

"Hello, darlings," Jean said, kissing her sons hello.

"Hello, Mum," Duncan said.

"Hello, Mummy," William said as well.

"We need to talk, dears," Jean said, sitting down on the couch. She picked up her handbag and pulled out the letters to the boys.

"What is it, Mum?" Duncan asked.

"Edward and I went to the bank today to see the state of our finances," Jean began. "We don't have that much money left – only £130."

"How are we going to live?" William asked, worried.

"I have plenty of money," Edward interjected. "And we are selling your old house. The money will go into trust for you both, so you will have something to rely on when you grow up."

"Thank you," Duncan said, sighing in relief.

"Your father had a safety-deposit box, too," Jean said. "He left you both letters." She handed them to her sons, who opened them and began to read them. Both were very short.

"Dear Duncan,

I am sorry that I never spent much time with you or your brother, something that I greatly regret. I am sorry, also, that you knew about the affairs I had when you were young. That was not something that you should have known about, and I am sorry that you had to find out. I always loved you, your brother, and your mother – my affairs did not stop me from loving you.

I am very proud of you, Duncan – you are growing up to be a marvellous person – a much better person than I ever was.

Your father,

Teddy."

"Dear William,

As I wrote in your brother's letter, I am sorry that I never spent much time with either of you, something that I truly regret. But know that just because I was never around did not mean that I don't love you – I do. I am sorry, William.

But know that I am very proud of you – I will always be proud of you.

I love you, William.

Your father,

Teddy."

The boys looked up at their mother and stepfather.

"Was there anything else in the safe deposit box?" William asked curiously.

Jean nodded. "Your father's memoirs and some photographs," she replied.

"Photographs?" Duncan asked. "Can we see them?"

She nodded again, pulling them out of her handbag. Her sons sat on either side of her.

"I'll make some tea," Edward said, standing up from his seat on the couch.

"Thank you," Jean said, looking up at her husband. She shot him a brief smile and then turned back to the pictures.

Jean and her sons looked through the pictures, starting with the earliest ones – her at Marcia Blaine. She hadn't known that he had taken these photographs.

"When was this, Mummy?" William asked, pointing at a picture of her sitting under a tree with a group of girls – her girls.

"That must have been in... hmm, 1934," Jean said, smiling softly. "That's Jenny," Jean said, indicating the girl to her right.

"Jenny? Really?" Duncan asked.

"Yes, when she was twelve," Jean said. "That's Monica, that's Mary, and that's Sandy," Jean said. Finally, after sixteen years, she was able to say Sandy's name normally.

"What happened to them?" William asked.

"Well, you know that Jenny married Richard," Jean began. "Monica is now a member of the Royal Court Theatre in London, and Sandy entered a nunnery."

"What about the other girl – Mary?" Duncan asked.

"She died when she was sixteen. The train that she was on was blown up," Jean said sadly.

"Oh," William said.

Jean set the picture aside – she did not want to dwell on the past – and picked up the next one. It was of Jean, sitting under the oak tree at their old home while she was pregnant with Duncan.

"Where is this?" Duncan asked her.

"This was at your father's and my house in Edinburgh, in the back yard," Jean said. "This was when I was pregnant with you, Duncan," Jean said. They turned to the next picture, which was of Jean standing at the bow of ship heading to Edinburgh, smiling at Teddy. Jean smiled at the memory of happier times. The next picture of note was of Jean holding Duncan, just after he was born. She smiled at that picture – that had been one of the happiest days of her life.

There was a gap of nearly four years between that picture and the next one – though Teddy had only been away for three years, he had not spent a lot of time around the house, and had not taken any pictures. The next picture was of Jean and Duncan smiling in the park. There were about fifty more pictures after that one, which included pictures of Jean and William right after his birth, Jean and the boys in the park, Jean and Duncan walking to school, and Jean and the boys in Edinburgh. The final picture was not one that Teddy had taken, but was of them kissing at their wedding. Tears came to Jean's eyes – the looked so happy. She brushed them away, exasperated with herself. She had already spent too much time crying over her husband – when he was alive and when he was dead.

They finally looked up from the photographs – there was a tray full of tea things, a note propped up against the teapot. She opened it.

"Jean, I went to the store to get the groceries. I love you, Edward."

"Edward went to get some groceries," Jean said, looking up from the note. "Duncan, will you pour the tea? I need to get a box from upstairs to put the photos in."

Her older son nodded and poured the tea while Jean went upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a small wooden box. She placed the photographs in it and placed the box on the bookshelf near the fire.

She and her boys drank the tea, talking about their day at school. It was very cosy and homelike, and Jean revelled in it. She loved them both so much.

Six hours later, Jean was waiting in bed for her husband, who was in the bathroom, taking a shower. She rummaged through her nightstand drawer and pulled out the sheaf of papers that consisted of her husband's memoirs.

"I fell in love with Jean Brodie when I was thirty eight years old, when I had been married for seven years and had four children with my wife. Deirdre was a stable, reliable woman, the perfect wife for anyone, but Jean was passionate, fiery... alive.* I had never met anyone like her before.

She was so beautiful, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and she was not only beautiful, but smart – truly a woman in her prime, as she loved to declare. Jean was dedicated to her students, dedicated to a fault, which separated us for so many years. But she was wonderful, absolutely wonderful, such a breath of fresh air, striking across my bows like a splash of seawater.*

I was obsessed with the desire to paint Jean, and she finally agreed to model for me. She came to my studio at the end of her first year teaching, and we fell into bed later that night. When we woke up the next morning, we both knew that we would never be the same again."

Edward entered the room and Jean set the manuscript down.

"What are you reading, Jean?" he asked her curiously.

"Teddy's memoirs," Jean replied, setting the sheaf of papers back in her nightstand drawer.

He smiled down at her and climbed into bed.

"It's very good," Jean said.

"Does it have a title?" Edward asked.

She pulled the manuscript out of her dresser drawer and turned to the first page, smiling sadly as she read the title. "It's called 'The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie'," Jean said, tears coming to her eyes. "Let's go to sleep, shall we?" she suggested, not wanting to cry again. She set the memoirs aside.

"All right," Edward replied, leaning over to kiss her good night.

"I love you," Jean said.

"I love you, too," he replied. He smiled down at her and turned off the lights. She snuggled up to him, resting her head against his chest, and fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie

Lines marked with an asterisk (*) are paraphrased from Muriel Spark's book "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie".

* * *

Over the next few days, Jean finished reading Teddy's memoirs, which were about the two of them. The book was a tribute of love to her, but what saddened her was that he had never shown her that much love when he was alive. The book was wonderful, though it did include enormous amounts of personal details. Jean wanted to have the book published, as it was wonderfully written, but she did not want the public to read about their love-making or her affair with Gordon Lowther.

After she finished the book, Edward read it. Jean wanted his opinion on whether or not she should try to get his memoirs published.

"When her second year of teaching began, I tried to get her to come visit me at the studio so that she could see her portrait. She refused, citing an outing with Gordon Lowther as an excuse. She claimed that they were going sailing, which they did. The Monday after Jean went to Lowther's estate at Cramond, I saw them kissing in the corridor. When they broke apart, he looked down at her with love, while she looked at him possessively.* I knew that she did not love him, but it still hurt me that she was with him and not me.

I was angry with Jean, angry that she would not come back to me. It was my fault, I knew – after we had spent the night together, I had left early in the morning to return to my family, as I knew Deirdre would be expecting me. She must have felt betrayed, abandoned, and as though she meant nothing to me, but she did – I was just denying it to myself.

Later that summer, while she was in Italy, I received a brief, impersonal postcard from her: "The incomparable Giotto frescoes; how triumphantly his figures vibrate with life! Yours truly, J. Brodie."

Was she really mine truly? I wanted her to be, but I knew that it was my fault for not showing her that I loved her, that she was more than a casual fling. I did love her – she was the most beautiful, most sensual, most beguiling woman I had ever known. Making love to her... it was marvellous. The feel of her bare skin against mine, her scent – like lilacs and roses – the silkiness of her hair, her warm body snuggled against mine... she was wonderful, and I loved her, loved her more than I had loved anyone before or since."

Edward was even more uncomfortable than Jean when he read Teddy's quite explicit descriptions of their love-making – Jean, at least, had been there, so it was not too embarrassing for her to remember those times. But Edward felt like a voyeur.

"Finally, after five years of separation, Jean and I began our affair again. I had confronted her with the news that her former lover, Gordon Lowther, was getting married to Heather Lockhart, one of our colleagues. She fled, running into the garden, where I confronted her again, ripping the veils of romance from her view of life. I offered her my love once more, for the final time, and though I did not expect her to accept it, she did.

That night, we went back to the studio so that she could see her portrait after five years – it was the best work that I had done until then.

"It's perfect, Teddy," Jean breathed.

"It's the best work I've ever done," I said proudly, beaming as she smiled at me.

"Can I see the portraits of my girls?" she asked me curiously. I nodded, leading her over to a stack of paintings. There were several paintings of Jenny, a portrait of Monica, and one of Sandy. And all the portraits did indeed look like her.

"I love you, Jean," I said, kneeling at her feet.

"And I love you, Teddy," she replied, pulling me up off my knees. She took my hands in hers and encouraged me to embrace her. Stretching up to kiss me, she began to step back to the bed even as our tongues danced with each other. She fell back onto the bed, and I released her from my embrace so that I could undress. She pulled off her knickers and threw them to the ground before unfastening her dress and shimmying out of it.

Finally naked, I sat on the edge of the narrow bed I kept in my studio and reached out, caressing first her cheek, then her neck, breasts, stomach, hips... she parted her legs for me and I slipped a finger into her. Her breathing began to come in gasps, and I grew more aroused as I watched her writhe with pleasure. She began to come as I slipped another finger inside of her. I lowered my mouth to her breasts and began to tease her nipple with my tongue.

When she had drifted down from her climax, I withdrew my fingers and brought them to my mouth, tasting her juices, grinning impishly as she watched me.

"You are such a naughty boy, Teddy!" she exclaimed, and my grin grew wider.

"Would you like to be naughty with me?" I asked her.

She nodded, her eyes growing darker as she rolled me onto my back and straddled my legs. Giving me one last smile, she took my penis into her mouth, running her tongue around the head, one hand giving my balls a gentle massage.

I groaned, a deep, primal sound, and allowed her to continue until I was on the brink of orgasm, when I pulled her up.

"Now, Teddy?" she asked me, positioning herself so that my cock was pressing against her entrance. I nodded, and she let herself sink down onto me. "Aah, yes!" she cried out as I filled her completely.

"Jean!" I shouted her name as she rode me. She began to come again, and I rolled her onto her back, encouraging her to wrap her legs around my hips. I continued to thrust in her, prolonging her orgasm. I finally climaxed when she peaked for a third time, collapsing on top of her.

"Oh, Teddy, how could ever have lived without you?" she whispered in my ear as we lay together in bed.

"When you were not with me, Jean, I was not living – I was just going through the motions of life. But it was not living – only when I am with you am I living," I told her."

Yes, scenes like that – which occurred quite frequently in Teddy's book – made Edward very uncomfortable – and jealous. His and Jean's love life was very fulfilling, but he was reluctant to make love to her in those ways, though he wanted to. His very strict upbringing had made him hesitant to try anything new, though he wanted to. Jean had already helped him to leave behind so many of his inhibitions, and for that he was grateful. He loved her so much, and he wanted to make her happy – both in and out of bed.

Jean did want him to take her the way that Teddy used to, but was too nervous to ask him to. He had already lost so many of his inhibitions, and she did not want to push him too far too fast. And she did love him as he was, and while she did not love him as much as she had loved Teddy, it was close, and she liked him, liked spending time with him, far more than she had liked Teddy. She had loved Teddy, but she hadn't liked him very much, especially in the last years of their marriage.

But Edward was a completely different story – they had many of the same interests (yes, she and Teddy had had the artistic temperament in common, but while that was all well and good for fuelling the flames of their love, it was not conducive to spending a quiet evening by the fire) and he truly cared about her. He remembered everything that she said and often surprised her with a flower, a small box of her favourite candies, a new book that she had wanted to read – little things that Teddy never did.

While she and Teddy had been lovers more so than husband and wife, Jean and Edward were partners and companions. Jean loved to spend time with Edward, and not just in bed (though she enjoyed that too), but enjoyed spending her leisure time with him.

And Edward was a wonderful stepfather to the boys – he truly loved them as though they were his own. He went out of his way to make sure that they were happy and doing well at school – when Duncan was struggling with maths, Edward spent hours going over the problems with him. When William tried out for the squash team, Edward practised with him, and William made the team.

And he got them the most thoughtful birthday gifts – he always had, even before Teddy had died and Jean and Edward had married – but even more so after he became their stepfather. He always made time for them, and Jean loved him for that.

"Jean was dismissed from Marcia Blaine on the grounds of teaching fascism, betrayed by one of her own girls, the one that she had trusted the most – Sandy Stranger. The girl that I had had an affair with. Jean was devastated – teaching was her life – that was the reason that she had refused to be with me for so many years.

I handed in my resignation the next day, and we were married two days after she was dismissed. My wife had discovered our affair, and she had applied for and received an annulment, so I was free to marry the love of my life, Jean Brodie. We had a very quiet, private wedding at the courthouse, two clerks as our witnesses.

After our wedding, we walked the two blocks to my house – well, our house.

After I unlocked the door, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her over the threshold as she giggled girlishly.

"Would you like the grand tour, Mrs. Lloyd?" I asked Jean, whose face lit up at the sound of her new name.

"Later, Teddy, later – right now I just need you," she told me, looking up at me adoringly.

I smiled at her statement and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

"Teddy, please do be careful!" she giggled as I spun her around at the top of the stairs. I smiled down at her, and brought her in to the bedroom.

"Oh, Teddy," she whispered when I finally set her down. I pulled her to me.

"Jean," I breathed, unzipping her dress. "My darling, darling Jean; my dearest love; my darling, darling wife..."

She began to unbutton my shirt.

"Teddy, my husband," she said, smiling widely. "Oh, how good it is to finally be married to you!" she exclaimed, and I smiled down at her, pausing in the act of undressing her to lead her to the mirror that hung across from the bed. I stood behind her, wrapping my arms around her, and we looked at our reflection.

"Mr. and Mrs. Teddy Lloyd," she whispered, smiling up at me.

"Mr. and Mrs. Teddy Lloyd," I repeated, kissing the back of her neck. I resumed the process of undressing her, and she turned in my arms, which allowed her to continue undressing me as well. When we were finally naked, she pulled me onto the bed. I entered her almost immediately, such was the strength of my desire. When I entered her, we gasped at the completeness we felt, infinitely more so than the other times we had made love. Our bodies moved together as one, and together we reached the heights of passion we had never known to exist. In perfect concert with each other, we came simultaneously, calling out the other's name.

"Oh, Jean, Jean," I whispered into her ear.

"That was absolutely incredible," she said softly, stroking my chest.

"Yes, it was," I replied, holding her close to me.

A movement across the room caught her eye, and she looked over her shoulder at it – it was their reflection in the mirror. She twisted around in my arms so that she could stare at our reflection in the mirror that hung across from the bed. She smiled at our reflection – we looked so happy.

"Look at us, Teddy," she whispered, pointing at the mirror. I did, sitting up against the pillows in our bed and pulling her back into my embrace.

"You look so beautiful, Jean," I said, my eyes focussed on her reflection. "Absolutely radiant."

She smiled and blushed. "No, not at me – at US. We look so perfect together," she said, continuing to stare at our reflection, transfixed at the sight of herself in my arms.

I tore my eyes away from her reflection and looked at us. We did indeed look perfect together – she fit in my arms like she was made to go there. My own dark head was resting against her golden one, and our naked bodies were pressed against each other. We fit together so perfectly – we completed each other. I was dark, she was fair; I was tall, she was small and delicate. We were two halves of a whole – and we were meant to be together forever. She scooted down to the edge of the bed and perched on it; I joined her.

"Yes, we do," I whispered to her. I could feel myself becoming aroused. She could see my growing erection in the mirror, and she tore her eyes away from our reflection, turning to me.

"Turn back around, Jean," I whispered, placing my hands on her shoulders, turning her so that she faced the mirror again. I stood, pulling her up with me, and stepped behind her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed again, I held my erection in one hand as I pulled her down onto his lap with the other. She moaned with pleasure as she lowered herself onto me.

We kept our eyes on our reflection as we made love. She watched me as I moved within her, and once more we cried out as one as we reached the heights of passion together.

As we recovered, we lay back on the bed, snuggled in each other's arms.

"That was amazing," I whispered to her, stroking her hair.

"Yes, oh yes," she said. "It was marvellous."

We moved back up the bed, getting under the covers, leaning back against the pillows. Jean stayed curled up in my arms, her eyes closed, smiling as I stroked her hair.

"I love you so much, Teddy Lloyd," she said. "I am so glad to be your wife."

"And I love you, Jean Brodie," I began, but Jean interrupted me.

"No, no, no; it's Jean Lloyd now," she told me, smiling up at me. I kissed her lips.

"I love you, Jean Lloyd," I said seriously, looking into her eyes, taking her hands and entwining my fingers with hers. I brought our joined hands up to my lips, kissing her fingertips lightly. She placed her other hand on my cheek and smiled at me; I closed my eyes and held her hand to my cheek. "I love you, Jean Lloyd," I repeated, opening my eyes to look down at her. She smiled once more up at me before closing her eyes again and placing her head against my chest, listening to my heartbeat, letting the steady rhythm lull her to sleep.

I stayed awake, looking at our reflection in the mirror. We really were perfect together, absolutely perfect. We had been made for each other, were destined to be together. As I looked at our reflection, I smiled, placing a kiss on top of my wife's head.

Wife. It used to be such an ugly word to me, at least when I was married to Deirdre, because it had kept me and Jean apart. But now, now that I was married to the woman I loved, it was one of the most beautiful words in the world.

"I love you, Jean Lloyd," I whispered to my sleeping wife, before going to sleep myself."

"I don't think that we should try to get the book published," Jean said to Edward one night while they were in bed.

"Why not?" Edward asked. "It is very good."

"Edward, I know that reading the manuscript has made you uncomfortable. It's made me uncomfortable. I don't want details of my sex life with Teddy out in public for the boys to see – it's not right."

"It's your decision, Jean," Edward said. "I won't lie to you and say that reading Teddy's book hasn't made me uncomfortable – it has. But it is a good book."

"You don't have to finish it, Edward," Jean said. "I'm sorry for asking you to read it in the first place," she apologised, stroking his cheek lightly. "It was not very considerate of me."

"It's all right, Jean," Edward said, smiling down softly at her.

"I love you, Edward," Jean said.

"I love you, too, my darling," he replied, kissing her lightly. She smiled up at him, eyes full of love. She curled up in his arms and rested her head against his chest, pulling his arms tighter around her.

"Never leave me, Edward – please, never leave me," she begged him.

"If I ever leave you, it won't be by choice, darling," he said.

"Thank you," she murmured, kissing his chest. "I love you."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

* * *

Two weeks after Jean and Edward decided not to publish Teddy's memoirs, Jean received a telegram from Teddy's first wife, Deirdre.

Jean STOP The children and I are coming to Australia for a month STOP We will be arriving on March 13th on the HMS Monmouth STOP Deirdre Lloyd STOP

They received the telegram on March 5th, and Jean immediately panicked. The boys still did not know that they had three half-sisters and three half-brothers. They did not know that their father had been married before he had married Jean.

Later that evening, Jean and Edward sat the boys down.

"Duncan, William, I have something to tell you," Jean began, incredibly nervous. Edward squeezed her hand reassuringly. "And I'm sorry that your father and I didn't tell you this before, but we never thought that we would have to."

"What is it, Mum?" Duncan asked.

"Your father was married to someone else when we met," Jean said, closing her eyes. "A woman named Deirdre. And your father and Deirdre had six children – your half-siblings."

"What?!" William exclaimed, standing up from the sofa. "We have brothers and sisters that you never told us about? Why?"

"Deirdre never wanted to see your father again, and she took your brothers and sisters to Ireland," Jean explained. "We never thought that you would need to know. I'm sorry, darlings."

"Why are you telling us about this now?" Duncan asked her calmly.

"Deirdre and the children are arriving on the thirteenth," Jean said. "They're staying for a month."

"How old are they? What are their names?" William asked curiously, though he was still angry at his mother.

Edward jumped in. "You have three half-sisters – Siobhan, who is twenty-seven; Kathleen, who is twenty-four; and Aileen, who is nineteen; and three half-brothers – Connor, who is twenty-five; Brendan, who is twenty-three; and Kieran, who is twenty-one."

"Do you know them?" Duncan asked Edward.

"I know Siobhan and Connor, but I don't know the other four," Edward said.

Jean looked up at him, surprised. She did not know that Edward knew Teddy's oldest children.

"Why are they coming?" William asked.

"I'm not sure," Jean admitted. "I know that your father wrote them letters before he died, and I assume that he asked them to come to visit us."

"Where are they going to stay?" asked Duncan.

"I've booked several rooms at the Dunkirk Hotel two blocks away," Edward replied. "I'll also have the guest rooms prepared, in case they would rather stay here."

"I can't wait to meet them," William said, excited. It seemed that he had forgiven his mother for keeping the existence of his half-siblings a secret – at least he had forgiven her for the time being.

* * *

"You've met Teddy's oldest children?" Jean asked him later that night.

"Yes, when I went to Edinburgh twenty five years ago," Edward said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jean asked.

"I didn't think that it mattered," he explained. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Jean forgave him. "Did you know them well?"

"No, not particularly," Edward said. "I only met them a few times."

"What is Deirdre like?" Jean asked, changing the subject slightly.

"She is a very kind woman, very dedicated to her children – not particularly religious," he said.

"Is she beautiful?" Jean asked. "I only met her once, very briefly, when she discovered that Teddy and I were having an affair."

"Yes, she is," Edward replied. "But not nearly as beautiful as you."

Jean smiled up at him and pulled his arms tightly around her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Jean," Edward said, kissing her on the forehead. "I love you, too."

* * *

Eight days later, Jean, Edward, Duncan, and William waited for the H.M.S. Monmouth to dock. Edward recognised Deirdre first and called out to her. She and her six children made their way over to the Lloyds.

"Hello, Deirdre," Edward said, embracing her.

"Hello, Edward," Deirdre replied.

Jean was standing nervously behind Edward, Duncan's arm wrapped around her shoulder protectively, William standing beside her.

Deirdre turned to Jean.

"Deirdre, this is Jean," Edward said, and Deirdre turned to her. She really was a beautiful woman, with long brown hair slightly streaked with gray; large green eyes; and a slender figure. She was about Jean's height.

"Hello, Jean," Deirdre said cordially. Jean was quite shocked by this friendly greeting – she had assumed that Deirdre would hold the fact that Jean had stolen Teddy away from her against her. After all, she had discovered them both in Teddy's studio all those years ago.

"Hello, Deirdre," Jean said, shaking herself out of her reverie.

"This is Siobhan, Connor, Kathleen, Brendan, Kieran, and Aileen," Deirdre said. Each of them smiled slightly.

"This is Duncan and William," Jean introduced her sons to Deirdre and their half-siblings. There was a very clear familial resemblance among all of Teddy's children.

"Why don't we go back to the house?" Edward suggested, and they all agreed. They piled into Edward's car and drove back to the house. They all gathered in the living room, and one of the maids brought in tea and sandwiches for everyone.

"I've booked rooms for you all at the Dunkirk Hotel, and we've also prepared the guest rooms for you if you'd prefer to stay here," Edward said.

Deirdre and her children exchanged glances. "We'll stay here, thank you," Deirdre said.

"I'll show you to your rooms," Jean said, standing up. Deirdre and the children followed her.

"Siobhan and Kathleen, this is your room," Jean said, opening the door. "Aileen, this is yours; Connor and Brendan, this is your room; Kieran, this is your room; and Deirdre, this is your room. I'll have one of the maids bring up your luggage," Jean said. "I'm sure that you all would like to freshen up."

"Thank you, Jean," Deirdre said.

"We'll have supper ready when come back down," Jean said, smiling nervously. Deirdre's children went into their rooms to freshen up.

"Jean, could I speak to you for a moment, please?" Deirdre asked.

"Of course," Jean said, stepping into Deirdre's room. Deirdre closed the door behind them.

"Please, sit down," Deidre said, and Jean sat down on the chair in front of the vanity.

"Deirdre, before you say anything, I want to apologise for taking Teddy away from you," Jean said, looking down into her lap. She was embarrassed.

"It's all right, Jean – I've forgiven you for that a long time ago – so have the children," Deirdre said, and Jean looked up at her.

"Thank you," Jean said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much."

"I wanted to show you the letter I received from Teddy," Deirdre said, pulling the envelope out of her handbag.

Jean opened the envelope and read the letter.

"Dear Deirdre,

By the time you read this, I will be dead. I want to apologise for not being a good husband to you over the years, and not being a good father to the children. But I am sorrier for not telling you right away that I was in love with Jean Brodie – it was not fair to you.

I want you to know that after our divorce, I married Jean Brodie and we moved to Australia to live near Edward. Jean and I had two children – Duncan and William. I think that our children should meet their siblings.

Again, I am sorry, Deirdre. I always loved you, my dear. I hope that you have been happy.

Teddy."

Jean folded the letter back up and handed it to Deirdre. "Thank you for sharing the letter with me," Jean said.

"You're welcome," Deirdre replied.

"Deirdre..." Jean began.

"Yes?"

"Just so this isn't awkward, I want you to know that Teddy asked me to marry Edward after he died, and we were married four months ago," she explained.

Deirdre's eyes widened slightly. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "I had wondered about that."

"I'll let you freshen up now," Jean said, standing up.

"All right," Deirdre replied. "I'll be down shortly."

Jean nodded and went back downstairs to join her husband and two sons.

A half an hour later, Deirdre and her children joined Jean, Edward, Duncan, and William downstairs in the dining room. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to be getting along – as soon as dinner began, Siobhan, Kathleen, Brendan and William began a conversation about squash, while Aileen, Connor, Kieran, and Duncan talked about world affairs. Deirdre, Edward, and Jean were involved in their own conversation.

"Jean, why did you and Teddy move to Australia?" Deirdre asked Jean.

"Well, before Teddy and I began our affair," Jean blushed at that, looking down at her plate, "He had been having an affair with one of my former students, Sandy Stranger. She ended it, but she was angry that we were happy. Anyway, she threw a rock through the living room window, and it struck me in the head, causing me to go into a coma – I was five months pregnant with Duncan at the time," she said.

"Oh, Jean!" Deirdre exclaimed.

"I emerged from the coma a month later, and Teddy and I stayed in a hotel for a few days. We decided to move to Australia to get away from Sandy, and when he returned to the house to pack up our things, she burned it to the ground. Teddy barely got out alive. We left for Australia a few days later," she finished.

Deirdre sat there, mouth open. "I'm so sorry, Jean," she said.

Jean smiled forlornly. "It's all right – it all happened a long time ago – nearly seventeen years ago."

Dinner finished, and they all retired into the living room for nightcaps. The children went up to bed first, because while they were no longer children in any sense of the word, they were all exhausted.

Deirdre and Jean stayed downstairs, talking – Edward had gone up to their bedroom.

"Did Teddy ever cheat on you?" Deirdre asked Jean.

Jean smiled sadly. "Yes, he did – quite often, in fact. He had an exhibition of paintings in Europe, which lasted for nearly three years, and during that time he slept with dozens of women. Deirdre, when you were married to Teddy and he had an affair, would you have one too?" Jean asked, changing the subject slightly.

"No, I didn't, though I was tempted to. Why, did you?" she asked, and Jean nodded.

"Yes, with Edward," Jean said. "For nearly two years. I told Teddy, of course, and he was very upset about it, but it was his fault, really, leaving me alone with a new baby for nearly three years. And I did love Edward – I do love him – not as much as I loved Teddy, but close to it. Deirdre, did you ever remarry?"

"No, I didn't – I didn't want to worry about another husband cheating on me," she said, and Jean blushed with embarrassment.

"I am sorry," Jean said.

"It's all right. You certainly weren't the only woman he slept with over the years. I was tired of his constant affairs, and I knew he wasn't in love with me anymore. To tell you the truth, I was no longer in love with him – that's why I applied for an annulment."

The clock in the corner struck eleven.

"Is that the time?" Deirdre said, looking down at her watch. "I must be off to bed."

"Good night, Deirdre," Jean said, spontaneously embracing the woman, who returned her embrace.

"Good night, Jean," Deirdre said. "I think that we will be great friends – we understand each other."

Jean smiled. "As do I," she said, and they walked up the stairs to their respective rooms.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie. Thanks to tabbyhearts for helping me come up with some of the ideas used in this chapter. Thanks are owed to kissofdeath who suggested the fight scene.

* * *

Surprisingly, the month that Teddy's first wife and children stayed with them went very smoothly, except for one drastic event.

One night, a week before the visit ended, Kieran attacked Duncan in the living room.

"I HATE YOU!" Kieran screamed, punching Duncan in the face. Duncan staggered backwards, bringing a hand up to his nose, which was bleeding profusely. Kieran approached him again, fists cocked, and knocked Duncan down. Edward, Brendan, and Connor held him back, while Jean knelt over her son. He was unconscious.

Deirdre grasped her son by his shoulders. "Kieran, why did you do this?"

"I hate them," he spat out. "I hate all of them. That bitch," he said, pointing to Jean, "is the reason that Dad left us!"

"Your father did not leave us – I left him. And Jean was not the reason that I filed for an annulment. Your father had affairs with many other women, not just Jean," Deirdre said. "Go up to your room."

"Fine," Kieran spat, and raced up the stairs. Deirdre turned to Jean.

"I'm sorry, Jean," she said, kneeling next to her. Duncan was still unconscious, and Jean held a handkerchief to his nose to staunch the bleeding. Edward went to telephone the doctor while Siobhan went to the kitchen, coming back with a few rags and a basin of cold water. She handed them to Jean, and she dipped one of the rags in water, wiping the blood off his face. He began to stir, opening his eyes.

"Duncan, darling, are you all right?" Jean asked him, stroking his hair. He tried to stand up, and Jean helped him, bringing him over to the couch.

"I've called the doctor," Edward said, coming back into the room. "Duncan, are you all right?" he asked. Duncan nodded.

"I'm sorry for Kieran's behaviour," Deirdre said.

"It's all right," Duncan replied. "I'm sure that if our positions were reversed, I would have done the same thing."

"It was still wrong," Deirdre said. "I'm going to go talk to him." She left and went up to talk to her son.

"Are you sure you're all right, darling?" Jean asked, stroking his hair. He rested his head on her lap and began to cry.

"Why does Kieran hate us?" he asked her.

"Oh, my darling," Jean said, letting her own tears drop onto his hair. "He resents the fact that when Deirdre divorced your father, he married me. It's not your fault, sweetheart."

The doorbell rang, and Edward got up from the couch to get the door. It was the doctor, and Duncan sat up. The doctor began his examination.

"Your nose is not broken," he said. "Just keep it iced. And you don't have a concussion, luckily. Just rest and take it easy for a few days," the doctor finished. Edward walked him to the door.

"Why don't you go up to bed, hmm?" Jean said. "I'll bring up your dinner."

"All right, Mum," Duncan said, and they began to walk up the stairs. They met Deirdre and a very ashamed-looking Kieran on the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Duncan," Kieran said, looking down at the ground.

"It's all right, Kieran," Duncan said. Jean and Deirdre exchanged a slight smile.

"Did the doctor say that you're all right?" Deirdre asked.

"Yes; he said to take it easy for a few days, though," Duncan replied. Deirdre nodded.

"I'm glad," she said. Deirdre and Kieran stepped to the side to allow Jean and Duncan to finish walking up the stairs. They entered Duncan's room, and he kicked off his shoes, climbing between the covers.

Jean smiled softly at him and turned to leave.

"Mummy?" he asked. She turned. Duncan hadn't called her Mummy in years.

"Yes, darling?"

"Will you stay with me?" he asked, looking just like a little boy. She smiled softly at him.

"Of course, my dear," she said, sitting on the side of the bed. He smiled at her and closed his eyes.

"I love you, Mummy," he said.

She began to cry. He and William had grown up so fast. "I love you, too."

* * *

Deirdre and her children left a week later. Kieran had kept to himself during that last week, despite apologising to both Jean and Duncan again. Deirdre and Jean bade each other goodbye and promised to write. During the month that she had stayed with them, Jean and Deirdre had forged a surprisingly strong friendship. They were both very similar women and had a lot in common – not the least of which was having loved the same man.

Despite Jean and Deirdre's surprising friendship (which certainly made their visit much more pleasant), Jean was somewhat relieved to have their house to themselves again – and to have Edward to herself.

Her poor husband had felt quite neglected by his wife during the past month, as she and Deirdre always seemed to be talking. Jean wanted to make it up to him, so they went out for a quiet dinner.

"I know that we just came back from our honeymoon, Edward, but I was thinking that we could have a weekend away," Jean said. "We don't even have to leave Sydney – we could stay in a hotel somewhere, just have time for ourselves."

He smiled at her. "That sounds nice," he said. "Why don't we just stay at the Dunkirk? That way we'll be close by in case the boys need us."

She smiled at him. "I can't wait. Then we'll go tomorrow?" she asked, for the next day was Friday.

"Tomorrow," he agreed, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

The next afternoon, as planned, Jean and Edward checked into the Dunkirk Hotel for the weekend. As soon as they stepped into their suite (Edward had insisted on reserving a suite for the two of them, though they would only be there for two days), Edward set the bags down and Jean wrapped her arms around him, kissing him passionately. He broke the kiss and pulled out of her embrace to close the door. Edward turned back to Jean, who was smiling sheepishly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just need you so much."

His eyes grew darker and he strode towards her, picking her up. She giggled, wrapping her arms around him, and he dropped her onto the bed.

They hadn't made love in over a month, and Jean had needed him so desperately. Quickly unfastening her dress, she shimmied out of it and let it drop to the floor while he undressed as well.

As soon as he finished undressing himself, he joined his wife on the bed and pulled her towards him. She stroked his face gently.

"I love you, Edward," she whispered, and he smiled down at her.

"I love you, Jean," he replied, lowering his mouth to hers. She moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck, and rolled him onto his back so that she could straddle him. She lowered herself on top of him and moaned again as she began to move on top of him.

"Oh, God, Edward," she gasped as she began to come. "Oh, yes, yes, YES!"

He began to come as the force of her climax caused his, and he gripped her hips tightly, bringing her down on top of him. Finally, they both collapsed in each other's arms, utterly spent.

"Oh, my darling," he whispered, stroking her hair as she leaned against his chest. She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him.

"Did you like that?' she asked him, smiling coyly down at him.

"You know that I did," he said, cupping her cheek. She smiled again.

"I'm glad – so did I," she said. She leaned back against his chest, snuggling up to his warmth. "I love you so much," she whispered.

"I love you, too, Jean," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "I love you too."

The rest of Friday passed very quietly. They ordered room service for dinner and had a relaxing night, making love once more before drifting off to sleep. They were both exhausted from the past month. They woke up quite late the next morning and ordered room service for breakfast. While they were waiting for their breakfast, Jean had a bath.

She must have dozed off, as she was woken up a half-hour later by her husband.

"Ready for breakfast, Jean?" he asked, and she nodded drowsily. He helped her out of the tub and she dried off, slipping into her dressing gown. She then joined her husband in the living room for breakfast.

After breakfast, Jean went back to bed – she was so tired, so, so tired... she didn't know what was wrong.

Jean slept right through lunch, only waking up in time for dinner.

"Are you feeling all right, Jean?" Edward asked her. She wasn't looking very well. He leaned over and felt her forehead – she was burning up.

"No, not really," she said, lying back against the pillows. "I'm sorry, darling, but would you mind terribly if we just went home?"

"Of course not, dear," he said. "Just rest and I'll pack up our things."

"I'll call the boys and let them know we'll be coming back soon," Jean said.

Three hours later, Jean and Edward returned home, and Edward called for the doctor. He examined Jean, and concluded that she had bronchitis. She was told to stay in bed for at least a week and avoid any strenuous activity.

Jean felt awful – not just because she was sick, but because she had to cut her romantic weekend with Edward short.

As soon as the doctor left, Edward brought Jean up to their bedroom, making sure she was comfortably ensconced in bed, before he went back downstairs to bring her up some tea. She was asleep when he returned, so he left the tea on her nightstand, before joining Duncan and William downstairs.

"I'm going to the grocers to get some food," Edward said.

"All right," the boys replied.

"I'll be back shortly," he said, and, with a nod to the boys, left the house.

While he was crossing the street, a car came out of nowhere and struck Edward down. The driver of the car jumped out and rushed towards Edward, who was unconscious. The man ran into the grocers and called an ambulance; an hour later, Edward was admitted to the hospital, still unconscious.

A nurse called the house, having found the phone number in Edward's wallet. Duncan answered the telephone.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello, is this the home of Edward Lloyd?" the nurse asked.

"Yes. Is something wrong?" Duncan asked.

"Mr. Lloyd was hit by a car earlier this afternoon; he is at the Sydney Hospital," the nurse said.

Duncan nearly dropped the telephone. "We'll be right there," he said, setting down the telephone.

"Who was that?" William asked, looking up from his book.

"Edward's in the hospital," Duncan said, his face pale. "Get your coat – I'll get Mum." William nodded shakily, and Duncan rushed up the stairs to his mother's room.

"Mum!" he said, throwing open the door. She looked up from her book.

"Yes, darling? What's wrong?" she asked.

"Edward's in the hospital," Duncan said. "We have to go now."

Jean got out of bed, trembling. "I'll get dressed. Get your coat and call a cab." Duncan nodded and ran back downstairs. Jean got dressed very quickly, not even bothering to look at what she was wearing, then rushed downstairs. The cab was waiting, and she grabbed her pocketbook off the table.

The ride to the hospital, though it was only ten blocks away, seemed to take years. As soon as they arrived, the Lloyds rushed into the hospital. Jean went up to the desk.

"My husband Edward Lloyd was brought in," Jean said, clutching her pocketbook with white-knuckled fingers.

The nurse looked down at the intake sheet. "He's in surgery at the moment," she said.

"Surgery for what?" Jean asked anxiously.

"Shards of glass from the accident were embedded in his eyes, other than that, he's fine," the nurse said. "He's in surgery now to remove the glass. You'll be notified when you can see him," the nurse said, dismissing her. Jean walked shakily back to her sons.

"He's in surgery," Jean said, sitting down between Duncan and William. "Shards of glass got in his eyes from the car accident; the doctors are removing them now. He wasn't injured other than that..." Jean burst out into sobs, and her sons embraced her.

They waited for hours, Jean nervously twisting her handkerchief in her hands. Finally the doctor came in.

"Mrs. Lloyd," the doctor called out, and Jean hurried over.

"Is my husband all right?" she asked.

"The surgery went very well – we were able to remove all the glass. However, there is only a very slim chance that he will ever see again," the doctor said.

Tears slipped down Jean's face. "Can I see him?"

"Yes; he's in room 213," the doctor said, and Jean turned back to her sons.

"I'm going to see Edward. Stay here," she said. "I love you both."

"Give Edward our best wishes, please," Duncan said, and William nodded.

"I will," she said, and followed the doctor down the hall.

They stopped outside Edward's room, and Jean took a deep breath before entering the room. Her husband was sitting up in bed, a bandage wrapped around his eyes.

"Edward?" she asked, stepping into the room. He turned his head towards her.

"Jean? Is that you?" he asked. She stepped further into the room, sitting down in a chair next to his bed. She took his hand.

"Yes, it is, sweetheart," Jean said, holding his hand up to her cheek. "Oh, my darling," she whispered, tears trickling down her face. She rested her head against his chest. "I am so glad that you are all right."

"I'll never see again, Jean," Edward said flatly. "I'd hardly call that being all right."

She looked up at him. "You're alive," Jean said, "you're alive, and everything will be fine."

"I don't want you to stay with me, Jean," Edward said.

"What?" she cried. "Why not?"

"You deserve better than me – you always have – and especially now that I can't see anymore," he said.

"How can you think it, Edward?" she asked him, shocked. "I love you!"

"Jean, I don't want you to be shackled to a cripple for the rest of your life," he said.

"I won't allow you to sink into self-pity, Edward Lloyd," Jean said in her best teacher voice. "I married you – for better and for worse, in sickness and in health, remember? I said it, and I meant it. I love you, Edward, and we'll work through this. I don't care if you never regain your sight – I love you."

He squeezed her hand tightly. "I love you, too, Jean."

* * *

Three weeks later, Edward was released from the hospital. Jean went to bring him home, while Duncan and William helped prepare the house for Edward's arrival.

Jean couldn't help but feel that it was her fault – if she hadn't gotten bronchitis, they would have been at the hotel, and Edward would not have gotten hit by the car. But she tried hard to push those feelings of guilt away, as she did not think that her wallowing in self-pity would help Edward recover.

The boys would be boarding at Riverview during the week from now on, to make it easier for Jean to take care of Edward. They would come home on weekends.

When Jean and Edward finally returned home, she carefully helped him out of the cab and then paid the driver. William and Duncan rushed out of the house to help Edward up the stairs.

Finally, Edward was ensconced in his and Jean's bedroom, and Jean went downstairs to bring up some lunch. She carefully, lovingly fed him, and when he was finished, Jean brought the tray back downstairs.

"Would you like me to read to you?" she asked him when she returned. He smiled.

"All right," he said.

"What would you like me to read?" she asked.

"Something Scottish," he said. She smiled down at him lovingly, though he could not see it.

"How about 'What Every Woman Knows'?" she suggested, and he nodded. She walked over to the bookshelf and pulled out the copy of the J.M. Barrie play. Kicking off her shoes, she curled up next to her husband; he wrapped his arm around her. It was just like before his accident.

She began to read. "Act one. James Wylie is about to make a move on the dambrod, and in the little Scotch room there is an awful silence befitting the occasion. James with his hand poised--for if he touches a piece he has to play it, Alick will see to that--raises his red head suddenly to read Alick's face. His father, who is Alick, is pretending to be in a panic lest James should make this move. James grins heartlessly, and his fingers are about to close on the 'man' when some instinct of self-preservation makes him peep once more. This time Alick is caught: the unholy ecstasy on his face tells as plain as porridge that he has been luring James to destruction. James glares; and, too late, his opponent is a simple old father again. James mops his head, sprawls in the manner most conducive to thought in the Wylie family, and, protruding his underlip, settles down to a reconsideration of the board. Alick blows out his cheeks, and a drop of water settles on the point of his nose…"

She finished the play and closed it, setting it down on the nightstand. She then curled up next to her husband again and smiled as he stroked her hair.

"I love you, Edward," she whispered.

"I love you too, Jean," he replied. "I love you so much."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

Parts of this chapter are inspired by Lexwing's story "Atherton Hall", a Jane Eyre fanfic.

* * *

Edward did not adjust well to the loss of his sight, regretting that he could no longer surprise Jean with little gifts or gestures. He couldn't even make a cup of tea, let alone go out and get her a present. She had to take care of him now, and he felt awful that she was reduced to that. When they married, he had promised to take care of her, and now he couldn't even do that.

Jean did not mind taking care of him – she relished it. He had taken care of her for so many years, and now it was her turn to show him how much she loved him – which she did; she loved him so much.

Though he hadn't been seriously injured other than becoming blind, he had some new scars on his chest and abdomen as a result of where the car hit him. He refused to let her see him naked – when she helped him to bathe; he had her draw the bath, then had her leave the room. He was ashamed – even though he couldn't see the scars, he could feel them. He didn't want his wife to see him like this.

This went on for three months, Jean indulging his requests for privacy. Finally, however, she had had enough of his self-pity.

"Edward," she said when they were in bed one night, "Why won't you let me make love to you anymore?" she asked him, blushing despite the fact that he could not see.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said, turning away from her.

"Please, darling, why don't you want to speak to me about this?" she asked him, embracing him from behind. "You know that I love you," she whispered, kissing his shoulder.

"How can you, Jean? How can you love a scarred, ruined man?" he asked her sadly.

"Edward, you are not a ruined man," she said sternly.

"I notice that you didn't say that I wasn't scarred," Edward said bitterly.

"That doesn't matter to me, Edward – I love you. Your scars – though I've never seen them – don't, and won't bother me, darling."

He turned to her slowly, looking down at her with his sightless eyes. She raised her hand to his cheek, caressing it softly, and brought her other hand to his pyjama top. Slowly, slowly she unbuttoned the top and had to bite down on her lip to keep herself from gasping at the large scar that ran the length of his chest.

"I told you – ugly," Edward said flatly.

"No," Jean said, tracing the scar with gentle fingertips, then with her lips. She could feel him growing hard against her abdomen, and she smiled. Hooking her fingers in the waistband of his pyjama trousers, she pulled them down, licking her lips at the sight of his proud erection. She took him into her mouth, running her tongue along his head.

"Oh, God, Jean," he groaned, groping blindly for her. "Oh, oh, Jean!" he cried out. She could tell that he was getting closer to release, and she finally pulled back from him. Taking his erection in hand once more, she straddled him, beginning to move on top of him.

"Edward, Edward, Edward!" she cried out as she felt him come. She joined him a few moments later, then collapsed in his arms. "Oh, my darling," she whispered.

"I love you, Jean," he whispered. "I love you so much."

Jean snuggled up to her husband, sighing contentedly as he wrapped his arms around her. She kissed his chest.

"I love you, too," she replied.

They woke up early the next morning, Jean going downstairs to fetch breakfast. When she brought it back upstairs, Edward was sitting at the small table by the window, dressed for the day for the first time in months.

"Good morning, Jean," he said, hearing her come in.

"Good morning, darling," she said cheerfully, setting the tray down on the table. She kissed his cheek lightly. Breakfast – well, any meal time – was difficult, as Jean had to carefully "show" Edward where the food was. This morning they made it through breakfast without any difficulties, and when Jean returned from bringing the tray downstairs, Edward suggested that they go to the park.

"All right," Jean said. "I'll pack up a blanket, hmm?" He nodded, and she pulled a tartan blanket from the top shelf of their wardrobe and tucked it into her bag. She helped Edward into his coat. "Ready, darling?" she asked; he nodded; and they made their way to the park.

After strolling through the park for a bit, Jean spread out their blanket. They settled themselves on the blanket, Jean resting against his chest.

"I don't feel that you're very happy in Sydney," Jean said.

He sighed. "I don't know. I suppose that I'm becoming disenchanted with the city," he admitted.

"Why don't we take a house in the country?" she suggested. "Get away from the masses of people."

"What about the house?" he said.

"We could rent it out," Jean said, gaining enthusiasm for the idea. "The boys are living at school now, and they could come out on the weekends. Oh, Edward, it would be marvellous!"

"All right, darling," he said, nuzzling the back of her neck. "We'll get a house in the country."

And they did, purchasing a small, four-bedroom house about an hour outside of Sydney. Jean took great pleasure in decorating their new home, making it cosy and welcoming – a true home.

Edward was far more comfortable in the country than he was in the city – far happier, too. Away from the hustle and bustle of city life, his spirits rose, and he fully recovered – mentally, at least – from the accident.

Edward was able to get outdoors far more – Jean and Edward took long walks around the countryside, and, as they had their own land, Edward was able to sit outside by himself while Jean was doing the shopping or tidying up. They didn't have a maid or a nurse there, because Jean wanted to take care of Edward herself.

Life was so simple there, and people were so friendly. The day that they moved in, a dozen of their neighbours came over to introduce themselves, bringing food as well. They were invited over to at least half a dozen parties for the upcoming weekend, but they turned down the invitations, as the boys were coming.

When the boys arrived, Jean and Edward's next-door neighbours, the McFaddens, stopped by. They had two sons as well, who were Duncan and William's age. Niall was Duncan's age, and Brian was William's age. Their parents, Douglas and Bridget, were originally from Glasgow, Scotland, but emigrated to Australia twenty years ago. Their sons were born in Australia.

While Niall and Brian took Duncan and William around the town, Jean served tea to Douglas, Bridget, and her husband outside on their verandah.

They talked quietly amongst themselves, Jean holding her husband's hand throughout the conversation.

When they were finished with the tea, Jean and Bridget brought the tea things into the kitchen and began to wash up while Edward and Douglas sat outside, talking.

"Why did you move from Sydney?" Bridget asked. "I'm sorry if that's an impertinent question."

"Edward was hit by a car several months ago," Jean explained. "He lost his sight. Living in the city wasn't conducive to his recovery, so we decided to purchase a house in the country."

"Oh, I am sorry," Bridget said. Just then, the boys tramped in. Jean smiled fondly at her two sons.

"Hello, darlings," Jean said. "Would you like some tea?" she asked, and they nodded.

Jean poured the tea into the teapot, then placed a set of plates, cups, and silverware, along with a plate of biscuits, on a tray.

"Thanks, Mum," Duncan said, picking up the tray.

"Thank you, Mummy," William said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Lloyd," the McFadden boys chimed.

Jean smiled at their retreating backs.

"Is Edward their father?" Bridget asked.

"No – Edward and I have only been married about six months. I was married to Edward's cousin, Teddy Lloyd, before I married Edward. He died nine months ago."

"Oh, my dear!" Bridget exclaimed. They had finished washing up and were now seated at the small table in the kitchen.

"It's all right," Jean said. "We hadn't had a happy marriage for quite some time – he was quite a philanderer," she explained.

"Well, Edward seems quite a reliable man," Bridget said.

"That he is," Jean said, smiling contentedly. "That he is." She shook herself out of her reverie. "How did you and Douglas meet?" Jean asked.

"We went to school together in Glasgow," Bridget said. "We moved here, to Australia, after Douglas was offered a job at a school here."

"Oh, he's a teacher?" Jean asked.

Bridget nodded.

"I used to teach," Jean said, slightly wistfully. "In Edinburgh. That's how Teddy and I met."

"You were very much in love with him," Bridget observed, and Jean nodded.

"I was, yes. But he was not a good husband – Edward is," Jean said, sighing. The clock chimed, and Jean looked at her watch. "I suppose I should start dinner. Would you all like to stay and join us?"

"Oh, thank you, but I have a roast in the oven at home," Bridget replied.

"Another time, then," Jean suggested. "Next weekend?"

"That would be lovely," Bridget said, standing up. "I'll collect the boys."

"All right," Jean said, standing up and following Bridget into the parlour.

"Time to go, boys," Bridget said. They groaned. "Get your things; I'll get your father."

Jean and Bridget walked into the garden. "We're going now," Bridget said. She turned to Edward. "Thank you for having us," she said, turning to Jean and Edward. "We'll see you later."

"Goodbye," Edward said, reaching out sightlessly to shake Douglas's hand.

The McFaddens left, and Jean and Edward went inside to spend some time with the boys. Edward, Duncan, and William talked about school while Jean prepared dinner.

The rest of the weekend was quiet and relaxing, and, on Sunday, Jean drove the boys back to school. Edward had insisted that she drive them back, not have them take the train. He had a surprise for Jean. With Douglas and Bridget McFadden's help, he had arranged for a rose garden to be planted around their verandah. Jean loved flowers – roses especially – and he hoped that she would like the garden.

By the time Jean returned, the garden had been finished. They had purchased climbing Scots roses, Jean's favourites. When she arrived home and pulled into the driveway, she gasped. Edward was sitting on the verandah, sipping tea. Surrounding the verandah were rose bushes, trailing up the sides.

Jean stepped out of the car, her mouth open, and took in the sight of the verandah. The roses were not in bloom as of yet, as it was still winter in Australia. But she could tell that they would look lovely in the spring, when the roses bloomed.

Jean walked up the steps of the verandah. "Oh, Edward," she breathed, looking around. "Did you do all of this for me?"

He nodded. "Do you like it, dear? They're Scotch roses, your favourite."

"Oh, Edward, I love it," she breathed. "How... why..." she trailed off, looking around her again.

"You're always talking about a garden, so, with Bridget and Douglas's help, I arranged to have the garden planted," he explained.

"Oh, I love you, Edward," Jean whispered, sitting on the couch next to him, bringing his hand to her cheek. "Thank you, thank you so, so much." She rested her head on his lap, looking out at the rose bushes, as he stroked her hair. The sun began to set. "Let's go inside, hmm?" she suggested, sitting up.

"All right," he agreed, and Jean helped him up. They went into the house, and Edward sat down at the dining room table while Jean prepared them a quick dinner.

After dinner, Jean and Edward went up to bed, where Jean showed Edward just how much she loved his surprise.

Edward truly missed his sight when they made love – he missed being able to see her. She was so beautiful when she came, oh so beautiful, and he loved to watch her. But now that he could no longer see, he was forced to try to remember just how she looked when she came, though he knew his memories was faded compared to how she really looked.

At least he hadn't lost his other senses – he could still feel her satiny-smooth skin against his, taste her kisses, hear her soft voice, smell her scent – like lilacs and rose petals. And he was lucky that he had not been more seriously injured. He just wished that he could see her again.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie. Again, some ideas for this chapter are borrowed from Lexwing's Jane Eyre fanfic, "Atherton Hall".

* * *

Two years passed, and Duncan graduated from Riverview, passing all of his A- and O-Level exams. Duncan had decided to attend St. Andrew's University, in Edinburgh, to study law. Jean did not was him to go – it was still hard for her to accept the fact that her baby boy had grown up, but she allowed him to go. He would be living in her old flat, which she still owned, all these years later. Jean wished that she could go with him, to help him settle in, but Edward needed her here with him.

So Jean drove her eldest son to the dock to bid him farewell.

"I love you, Duncan," she whispered, hugging him tightly, crying.

"I love you, Mum," he replied, a few tears slipping from his eyes.

She held him at arms' length. "Now, I expect you to write at least once a month, and call as often as you can."

"I promise," Duncan said. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you, my darling," she said. He reluctantly pulled away from her and gathered together his things. He boarded the ship, and Jean stood at the dock, waving as the ship pulled away. When she could no longer see it, she slowly walked back to the car and drove back to the house.

Later that night, safely wrapped in her husband's arms, she cried for her son.

"We're so lucky that we still have William," Jean said once she had stopped crying.

"Yes, we are," Edward said, stroking her hair softly. "We are."

* * *

When Duncan had arrived in Edinburgh, he moved into his mother's old flat. It hadn't been lived in for nearly twenty years, so he had his work cut out for him, cleaning-wise. When Jean and Teddy had married, she had not brought most of her things with her, and so, while he was cleaning out the flat, he found many things – clothes, books, letters, and photographs.

He found dozens of photographs of his mother when she was young, long plaits hanging down her back. Quite a few of those pictures featured his mother and a tall, dark-haired man in uniform. He looked on the back of the photograph, and, in his mother's neat handwriting, he read "Me and Hugh, just before he was deployed to Flanders." He wondered who Hugh was – he would have to write to his mother to ask her.

And he found dozens of letters from someone called Gordon Lowther – love letters. He would have to ask his mother about him, too.

It took awhile, but he finally had cleaned the flat and made it a fit place for him to live. He did love the flat – it was quite close to St. Andrew's, and he didn't have to pay rent. And, for some peculiar reason, it felt like home, though he had never been there before.

He loved Edinburgh; the bustle of the city, the climate, the people – it was so different from Australia. He loved St. Andrew's – it was a marvellous school, and he was learning a lot. And he had met a wonderful girl, whose name was Helen Lowther. She was just a few months younger than he was. She was beautiful, with burnished gold hair and beautiful, dark brown eyes. She was a few centimetres shorter than he, and was very slender.

They began seeing each other seriously, and, a year later, she brought him to meet her parents – Gordon Lowther and Heather Lockhart Lowther.

When Helen and Duncan arrived at Cramond, they were brought into the sitting room by the housekeeper. Gordon and Heather were seated on one of the couches, but stood when they entered the room. They embraced Helen, then turned to Duncan. Both Gordon and Heather were taken aback by Duncan's appearance – he looked just like Teddy.

"Duncan Lloyd," Duncan said, shaking Gordon's hand, then Heather's.

"Gordon Lowther," Gordon said.

Duncan's eyes widened. "Gordon Lowther? You taught with my mother, didn't you?" he asked. "Jean Brodie?"

"You're Jean's son?" Gordon asked faintly, sinking down onto the couch.

"Yes," Duncan said.

"How is she? And where is she?" he asked, indicating for Duncan to take a seat. He did.

"My mother is fine; we've been living in Australia for the past twenty years," Duncan said.

"And your father?" Gordon asked.

"He died a few years ago, of liver cancer," Duncan said. "Did you know him as well?"

"Yes, we all taught at Marcia Blaine. Heather did, too," he said, smiling at his wife.

"That is a coincidence," Helen said, squeezing Duncan's hand.

The rest of the day was spent in conversation, talking about old times. At the end of their visit, Gordon asked Duncan if he could speak to him for a moment. Duncan agreed, and they went for a walk in the garden.

"I was in love with your mother for a long time," Gordon said.

"I know," Duncan said. "I'm living in her old flat, and when I was cleaning it out, I found your letters to her."

"I wasn't very kind to her near the end of our relationship, though," Gordon said. "I had been courting Helen as well, and when I proposed to her, she accepted. I had proposed to your mother many times, but she had always turned me down. So I married Heather. I didn't tell your mother, but your father told her, so she confronted me. I was sorry for hurting her – I had loved her, and I still love her, nearly twenty years later. What I'm trying to ask you is, well, is she happy?"

Duncan smiled slightly. "She is. She remarried a few months after my father died, and Edward – who was my dad's cousin – loves her very much. They are very happy together."

"I'm glad," Gordon said.

"Gordon?" Duncan asked.

"Yes?"

"I'd like to ask your permission to marry your daughter," Duncan said.

Gordon looked at him. "Do you love her?" he asked.

"Yes, with all my heart," Duncan replied without hesitation.

"You have my blessing, then," Gordon said.

Two days later, Duncan Edward Brodie Lloyd proposed to Helen Lockhart Lowther, and she accepted his proposal. They were twenty years old.

* * *

With Duncan and William both away at school, Jean and Edward spent much of their time with each other. One day, a year after Duncan had left for Edinburgh, Jean and Edward had received some exciting news.

He had had an appointment with his doctor in Sydney, and Jean drove him to the appointment. She was called in to the office during Edward's appointment.

"Jean, I am regaining my vision – in my right eye, at least," her husband said happily.

"Oh, my God – really?' she exclaimed, clutching at her heart.

The ophthalmologist nodded. "Yes, the eye had actually not been seriously damaged. The scar tissue was what was preventing Mr. Lloyd from seeing. But now that the scar tissue is receding, he is able to see."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jean asked.

"I wanted to make sure that it wasn't temporary," Edward explained.

"He'll have to wear glasses for the time being, but his vision has returned in his right eye. In time, it might return in his left eye as well," the ophthalmologist said.

Jean embraced her husband. "Oh, I am so happy," Jean said, tears streaming down her face.

A few hours later, the Lloyds returned home, Edward wearing his new glasses. When they arrived and got out of the car, Edward scooped his wife up in his arms and kissed her. He carefully carried her up the steps of the verandah and up the stairs to their bedroom.

He laid her out on the bed and sat down next to her, caressing her cheek softly.

"I love you, Jean," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her lips.

"I love you, Edward," she replied, taking his free hand in hers. "I love you so much."

He began to unbutton her dress, baring her body to his eyes. "Oh, my darling, darling, Jean," he replied, "You are so beautiful."

Jean smiled softly at him. "You think so?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," he said, caressing her cheek. "Oh, so beautiful."

She pulled him down on top of her, and, gently taking off his glasses, rolled him onto his back and showed him just how happy she was that he had his sight back.

Later that afternoon, while they were lying in bed, the telephone rang. Jean sighed and leaned over to pick up the telephone.

"Hello?" Jean said.

"Hello, Mum," Duncan replied.

"Duncan, darling! How are you?" Jean asked.

"I'm well. Mum, I'm engaged," he said, and Jean dropped the telephone. She scrambled to pick it up.

"I'm sorry, darling – dropped the telephone. You're engaged? To whom?"

"Her name's Helen. You know her parents, Mum – Gordon Lowther and Heather Lockhart," Duncan said.

"Do... do they know that you're my son?" Jean asked.

"Yes, they do, and they're fine with it," Duncan said. "Listen, Mum – we're going to get married at Christmas here in Edinburgh, at Cramond Kirk. Can you, Edward, and William make it?" he asked.

"Yes, we can – oh, and we have some wonderful news, Duncan!" Jean exclaimed. "Edward's vision has returned!"

"That's wonderful!" Duncan said. "I've got to go, but give him my love. I love you, Mum," he said.

"I love you too, darling. I'll write to you to let you know when we're coming in," Jean replied.

"All right. I'll try to call you in a few days," Duncan said.

"I love you," Jean said again.

"I love you, too, Mum," Duncan said, and hung up the telephone.

Jean turned to her husband.

"Duncan's engaged?" Edward asked. "To whom?"

"To Helen Lowther – the daughter of my former lover, Gordon Lowther," Jean said, sinking back against the pillows. "They're getting married at Christmas, at Cramond Kirk," she continued. "We'll have to get tickets," Jean mused, staring up at the ceiling.

"Are you all right?" Edward asked Jean.

"Yes – well, no. I can't believe that Duncan's getting married, and I can't believe he's marrying Gordon's daughter," she admitted. "Did I ever tell you that he once thought that Duncan was his child?" Jean asked.

"No, you hadn't told me that," Edward said.

"Yes, he did. Sandy sent him a letter saying that I was pregnant with his child – I wasn't, obviously, but he thought so at the time," Jean replied. "We – Teddy and I – informed him that it was not the case." She rested her head against her husband's chest. "And now my son is marrying his daughter – completing the cycle," Jean said.

"Are you unhappy about his choice of a wife?" Edward asked her.

"No... it's just, well, I don't know how I feel about seeing Gordon again. I haven't seen him in nearly twenty years," she explained.

"I'll be there for you, Jean – I'll always be there for you," he said.

Jean smiled up at her husband. "I love you, Edward," she said.

"I love you, too," he replied.

* * *

Three months later, Jean, Edward, and William arrived in Edinburgh a week before Christmas. Duncan met them at the dock.

"Hello, Mum," Duncan said, embracing her. "Hello, Edward; hello, William," he said, shaking his stepfather and brother's hand. "The Lowthers are expecting us at Cramond for dinner; you'll be staying with them."

Jean clutched her husband's hand tightly.

"I've parked the car over here," Duncan said, leading them away from the ship. They piled in, and Duncan drove them to Cramond.

Nothing had changed in the past twenty years – Jean felt like she had travelled back in time. If her husband had not been there, holding her hand, she would have sworn it was 1932 again.

They were shown into the parlour by the housekeeper – the same housekeeper that Gordon had had twenty years ago. Gordon, Heather, and Helen were seated in front of the fire.

"Mum, Edward, William, this is my fiancée, Helen Lowther," Duncan said proudly, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Pleased to meet you," Jean said, shaking the girl's hand. The girl looked just like Heather had when they had taught together all those years ago.

Jean turned to Gordon. "Hello, Gordon," Jean said softly, extending her hand. "It's nice to see you again."

"Hello, Jean," Gordon replied, taking her hand and squeezing it lightly. Jean turned to Heather.

"Hello, Heather," Jean said.

"Hello, Jean. Won't you have a seat?" she said, and Jean nodded, sitting down on one of the couches. Edward joined her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

"Oh, Gordon, Heather, this is my husband, Edward Lloyd," Jean said.

Gordon and Edward shook hands. They made quite uncomfortable small talk for several minutes, Jean trying to avoid Gordon's gaze. She realised that the couch that she was sitting on was one of the places where they had once made love. Finally, dinner was called, and Jean's thoughts were torn away from days past.

Unfortunately, dinner was just as uncomfortable an affair. Jean engaged Duncan's fiancée in talking about the wedding in an effort to prevent any conversation with Gordon. Edward and Gordon avoided each other's gaze throughout the meal. Duncan and William talked about their studies. After dinner, the housekeeper showed them to their rooms, and Jean fell asleep immediately, emotionally exhausted by the day.

The next morning, the Lloyds and the Lowthers met for breakfast. After breakfast, Duncan took Edward and William to see the church, while Heather and Helen went for Helen's dress fitting, leaving Jean and Gordon by themselves.

"Would you care to go for a walk, Jean?" Gordon asked, and she agreed. They strolled on the beach, arm in arm, just like they had for the first time twenty seven years ago.

"This is bizarre, isn't it?" Jean said. "Our children marrying each other."

"It is," Gordon agreed. He turned towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I still love you, Jean – twenty years later and I still love you."

Jean sighed. "I know, Gordon," she said.

"You never did love me, did you, Jean?" he asked her sadly.

"I did," Jean said. "I did love you for a time – but I loved Teddy more," she said apologetically.

"Do you still love me?" he asked.

"Yes, I do – but I'm not in love with you, Gordon – I'm in love with my husband," Jean said. "Aren't you in love with Heather?" she asked.

"Yes, of course – but you've always held my heart, Jean Brodie," he said. "From the first time I met you, you've held my heart."

Jean smiled sadly up at him and rested her hand on his chest. "I give you back your heart, Gordon Lowther," she said, and he took her hand in his.

"One last kiss, Jean?" he asked her, and she nodded, stretching up to kiss his lips. She pulled back from him a few moments later.

"Let's go back," Jean suggested, and he nodded. They walked back to the estate, arm in arm.

Later that night, Jean told Edward about her conversation with Gordon.

"I can't believe that he's still in love with me all these years later," Jean said.

"You are so wonderful, Jean – how could anyone not be in love with you?" he asked her.

She smiled up at him. "Well, I am in love with you, not him," Jean said. "I love you so much – and I told him that."

"I love you too," Edward said, kissing his wife softly.

A week later, Duncan Edward Brodie Lloyd and Helen Lockhart Lowther were married at Cramond Kirk. Jean cried throughout the entire ceremony, devastated that her oldest son was now married, and at such a young age. But she was happy that her son was happy and that he had found such a lovely woman to marry – for Helen was a wonderful girl. She hoped that they would be happy together.

Two days after the wedding, after Duncan and Helen had left for their honeymoon in Italy, Jean, Edward, and William boarded their own ship back to Australia. Jean was quite relieved – she had not felt comfortable with Gordon around – they had too complicated a history together. And Edinburgh was no longer the Edinburgh she had known, all those years ago. She was no longer comfortable there, as much as she hated to admit it, and she missed Australia. She missed her home, her garden, her neighbours, but, most of all, she missed spending time with Edward, just the two of them.

Almost as soon as they had returned to Australia, William had to go back to Riverview. Jean was reluctant to let him go – he only had two more years there, then he would be off to University as well. She could only hope that he would choose to remain in Australia, though she doubted that he would. Jean suspected that he would go to Edinburgh, to St. Andrew's, like his brother.

A few days after they had returned to Australia, Jean received a parcel from Gordon.

"My dear Jean,

It was so wonderful to see you at our children's wedding. You are still as beautiful as you were twenty years ago.

I found this just after you left, in one of the boxes that I had in the attic, and I thought that you'd like to have it back.

All my love,

Gordon."

Jean opened the parcel with trembling fingers, wondering what on earth it could be. It was the sapphire brooch Gordon had given her twenty seven years ago, on her birthday.

"What's that?" Edward asked, coming up behind her.

"A parcel from Gordon," Jean said. "It contained this brooch – I had lost it at his estate over twenty years ago. He'd given it to me for my birthday the first year of our relationship," she said.

"He loved you very much, didn't he?" he asked her, and Jean nodded.

"Yes, he did – once," Jean replied. She tucked the brooch into her jewellery box.

"Did you love him?" Edward asked.

"Yes, once," Jean admitted. "But not nearly as much as I had loved Teddy, and not nearly as much as I love you," she said.

"I'm glad of that, my sweet," Edward said, stroking her hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Jean said, wrapping her arms around him. He bent down and captured her lips in a tender kiss.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

* * *

Duncan and his new bride returned to Edinburgh after their honeymoon and began their studies again. They were still living in Jean's former flat. One night, Helen discovered a box of letters from her father to Duncan's mother and began to read them.

The first letter was dated September 12th, 1932.

"My darling Jean,

Yesterday was so wonderful; the best day of my life. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I am so lucky to have you in my life. I was wondering if you'd care to spend next weekend with me at Cramond. Perhaps we could take the boat out again. And I'd like to take you out to dinner, if you are agreeable.

All my love,

Gordon."

The next letter was dated September 19th, 1932.

"My dearest Jean,

This weekend was so lovely, utterly perfect. I do love you, Jean – you are the most wonderful person in the world. Will you consent to spending next weekend with me? I hope that you do. And I know that this is a bit presumptuous, but I was wondering if you would care to spend Christmas with me here at Cramond. I would very much enjoy that, my dear.

All my love,

Gordon."

Duncan came in and saw his new bride reading her father's letters.

"So this is why my father looked so peculiar when he realised that your mother was who she was," Helen said, brandishing the letters.

"Yes, that's why," Duncan said, sitting down on the bed next to her.

"So, our parents were in love once, long ago," Helen said, leaning back against the pillows.

"Yes, a long time ago," Duncan said. "Your father told me about it."

"When?" Helen asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

"Before I asked his permission to marry you," Duncan replied.

"And you didn't tell me?" she asked.

"Helen, how was I supposed to tell you? Oh, darling, your father told me that he was once in love with my mother; they had a sexual relationship for five years before your father abandoned my mother for your mother?" Duncan asked sarcastically.

Helen smiled sheepishly at her husband. "I'm sorry," Helen said. "You're right. I am sorry."

Duncan smiled down at her. "It's all right," he replied, kissing her on her forehead. She snuggled up to him.

"I love you, Duncan," she said.

"I love you, too," he replied.

* * *

William graduated from Riverview two years later and indeed went to St. Andrew's, like his brother. Duncan and his wife had graduated the year previously, and they had purchased a house near his in-laws. Duncan had graduated first in his class, and was offered a very lucrative position at a prestigious law firm, which he accepted. Helen had studied music, and began teaching at her old school, Marcia Blaine.

William moved into their mother's old flat and began attending St. Andrew's, studying international affairs. He planned to follow in Edward's footsteps and become a member of the Australian Parliament.

And in Australia, Edward regained his sight in his left eye as well. Though he still needed glasses – he was seventy, after all – he was able to see out of both eyes. Jean was thrilled, as was Edward.

And three months after Edward regained his sight, Duncan and Helen found out that she was pregnant. Helen, who had been teaching at Marcia Blaine for only a year, resigned in order to dedicate her time to the baby. Jean and Edward once more travelled to Edinburgh and stayed with Heather and Gordon, this time for three months while they waited for the birth of their grandchild.

While they were staying at Cramond, Duncan brought over the box of letters that Gordon had written starting thirty years ago, returning them to Jean. He also brought over the photographs, the books, and the clothes, knowing that Jean would want them back, which she did. In the months that they spent with the Lowthers, Jean went through every one of the letters.

Gordon came across her sorting through them later that day, when both families were out.

"What are those?" Gordon asked her, joining her on the verandah.

Jean looked up at him. "The letters that you wrote me," Jean said.

"You've kept them all these years?" Gordon asked, and Jean nodded.

"Duncan found them again; they were in my flat," she said. "He found these photographs, too," she said, handing him a stack of photographs. He joined her and began looking through the photographs.

The first one showed them during that first Christmas they had spent together. They had used Gordon's camera, which had an automatic timer, to take that picture. They were standing in front of the Christmas tree, his arm wrapped around her waist. She was looking up at him adoringly.

The next picture showed them standing in front of the Coliseum in Rome. They had travelled there over their summer vacation the year after they began their relationship. A tourist had taken the photograph of them.

The next photographs in the stack were taken at a photograph booth in London, where they had gone during their Easter break during the second year of their relationship. The first photograph was of them smiling demurely; the second was of Jean blushing as Gordon kissed her cheek; the third was of them kissing lightly; and the fourth and final photograph was of Jean and Gordon's heads resting against each other, both of them smiling.

"We had a good relationship, didn't we?" Jean said. "I mean, despite all the secrecy."

"Yes, we did," Gordon said, smiling softly down at her.

"Remember when we had those pictures taken?" Jean said. "It was such an awful day out, raining buckets, and we were running back to our hotel when we saw the photograph booth and decided to get our picture taken. That was a lovely trip, wasn't it?" Jean asked him, and he nodded.

"It was," Gordon said. "I was so glad that you convinced me that we should go."

"And Italy, of course," Jean said. "Italy was magnificent."

"Yes, it was," Gordon agreed. "We had some wonderful times."

"We did," Jean said, "We certainly did. Italy, London, and here – we did have some wonderful times."

"Do you remember the first time we made love, Jean?" Gordon asked her. She nodded.

"Yes, I do," she said. "You didn't want to at first, but I eventually persuaded you."

"I just didn't want to take advantage of you," he said. "I couldn't believe that you wanted me. Why did you begin our relationship, Jean?" Gordon asked her curiously.

"I was attracted to you," she said.

"There was something else, though, wasn't there?" Gordon said. Comprehension dawned on his face. "It was something to do with Teddy Lloyd, wasn't it?"

Jean nodded, blushing embarrassedly.

"What was it – your real motivation for beginning your affair with me?" Gordon asked.

"Teddy had painted my portrait," Jean began. "At the end of my first year teaching. We made love, and, the next morning, he left while I was still asleep. I left his studio and fled to Italy and Egypt. When the school year began again, he confronted me, trying to get me to go back to his studio to see the portrait. I did not want to – I believed that he didn't love me – and I made up an excuse, claiming that you had invited me to Cramond. So, in order for my excuse not to be a lie, I persuaded you to invite me for the weekend. I'm sorry, Gordon," she said. "I was attracted to you – that wasn't a lie. And I did love you."

"So it wasn't all a lie, then, Jean?" he asked.

"No, it wasn't," she said. "A lie might have been my motivation for beginning our relationship, but it wasn't my motivation for continuing it."

"And you turned down my marriage proposals because..." he trailed off.

"Because I knew that we wouldn't be happy together in the long run. And because I knew that I didn't love you enough to make you a good wife," she said. "I loved you, Gordon, I did; and I was in love with you for a time, but I loved Teddy more. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Jean," Gordon said, caressing her cheek. "I was lucky to have you in my life for such a long time."

Jean smiled up at him. "I was lucky to have you, too," she whispered. "You were so kind, so loving to me," she continued. "I didn't deserve you."

"Of course you did," Gordon said. "It was I who didn't deserve you – especially the way I treated you at the end of our relationship."

She shook her head. "It's all right," she said. "Let's just remember the good times we had."

"All right," Gordon said.

Later that night, after dinner, a knock sounded at her bedroom door. Edward was downstairs, talking to Heather.

"Come in!" she called. Gordon stepped inside, holding a box.

"I thought that you'd like to see these," Gordon said, setting the box down. She opened the box, revealing her letters to him.

"Thank you, Gordon," she said. "I would like to look through them again."

He smiled down at her. "Good night, Jean," he said.

"Good night," she replied. He bent down to kiss her cheek, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

She took a stack of her letters to him out of the box and opened the first one, dated September 14th, 1932.

"Dear Gordon,

I, too, enjoyed this weekend immensely. And of course I would like to spend next weekend with you. Perhaps we can have another adventure on the sea. I would also love to go out to dinner with you this weekend. Perhaps we could go out to dinner on Friday and then spend the rest of the weekend together. I would enjoy that very much.

Yours truly,

Jean."

She set that letter aside and picked a random one from the pile. It was dated December 4th, 1932.

"Dear Gordon,

I cannot wait until Christmas break begins – I am so glad that I will be spending the holidays with you, instead of on my own. It is so nice to be with you, Gordon – you make me feel so loved, so special, so wonderful. I can't wait until Christmas – I've found a wonderful present for you, one that I think you'll enjoy.

Only four more days until Christmas break begins!

Love,

Jean."

What had she given him for Christmas that year? She looked up at the ceiling and smiled as she remembered. She had bought him a lovely antique gold pocket watch, as well as a rather... revealing negligee, one that they had both gotten hours of enjoyment out of. She smiled. It had taken some time, but he had become quite a good lover – not nearly as good as either Teddy or Edward, but close.

That Christmas, he had given her a beautiful pair of sapphire earrings and a matching necklace. They had spent much of that Christmas snuggled up together. It had been an unusually cold winter, so they had just cuddled in bed, under layers of blankets. And they warmed up by making love; hours upon hours in bed...

Her husband came in, and Jean pulled herself out of her reverie.

"What are those, darling?" Edward said, beginning to change into his pyjamas.

"The letters that I wrote to Gordon nearly thirty years ago," Jean said. "You know that Duncan brought over the letters he had written to me earlier today, as well as some old photographs," she said.

"Oh, yes," Edward said, joining her in bed. "I'd like to see the photographs, if you'd care to show them to me, that is," he added.

"Of course, darling," Jean said. She rummaged through the nightstand and pulled out a stack of photographs. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she snuggled up to him.

"When was this?" Edward asked, pointing at the first picture. Jean was very young, long hair hanging down her shoulders. She was wearing a school uniform.

"That was when I was thirteen," Jean said. They saw a few more pictures of her youth when they arrived at a picture of Jean and Hugh.

"That was Hugh, my first love," Jean said, gently tracing his features with her finger. "He was killed on Flanders Field."

There were a few more pictures of Jean and Hugh, then pictures of Jean and Gordon. They came across one picture of Jean standing alone at the beach, smiling at the camera. She looked absolutely radiant.

"When was this taken?" Edward asked her. Jean turned the photograph over.

"Cramond; my birthday, 1934," Jean read.

"You look absolutely gorgeous in this picture," he said.

"And I don't look gorgeous normally?" Jean asked him teasingly.

"Of course you do," Edward said, kissing her. "You know that. But you do look beautiful in this picture, too."

Jean smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"Perhaps we can have it enlarged and then hang it up at home," Edward suggested, and Jean nodded.

"That would be nice," she agreed. She set the photographs aside. "Good night, darling," she said, leaning over to kiss her husband good night. "I love you."

"I love you too, Jean," Edward said, kissing her again. He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand before turning off the lights. Jean snuggled up to her husband, smiling contentedly as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close. But when she fell asleep, she dreamed of her birthday, 1934.

Her birthday was on June 21st, and school had let out for the summer. Gordon had planned a small celebration in honour of her birthday at his estate. She had spent the night before with him, and he brought her breakfast in bed the morning of her birthday. After breakfast, they had made love, then had gotten dressed. They then went for a walk on the beach, which was when Gordon had taken that picture. She was smiling, laughing even, as she turned towards him. He hadn't told her that he was taking the picture, and that was why that photograph had captured the way that she had been. It had captured her in the height of her prime, had frozen a snapshot of time when she had been in love with him.

After their walk, Jean and Gordon had returned to Cramond for lunch – Jean and Gordon made lunch together. It took quite a long time to make lunch, as Gordon kept distracting her – nuzzling the back of her neck, allowing his hands to linger on her waist... he was very amorous that day.

Finally they managed to finish lunch, after which they made love on the couch. They both tried to make it upstairs, but he couldn't resist her any longer. She had flirted with him throughout their lunch – allowing her tongue to graze over her lips far more than necessary, rubbing his legs with her feet, smiling seductively at him. Once they were finished with their lunch, Gordon pushed back his chair and scooped her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him passionately.

They had to walk through the living room to reach the stairs, and, as her tongue sought entrance to his mouth, he moaned. He couldn't continue any further, he wanted – nay, needed – her so much. He laid her down on the couch and she pulled him on top of her.

"Oh, Gordon," she sighed as he began kissing her neck. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, then got to work on his trousers while he unbuttoned her dress. Jean moaned, arching her back, as he trailed kisses along her collarbone. He stopped, and she groaned in disappointment. He looked down at her, and she smiled up at him.

"I love you, Gordon," she said.

"I love you, Jean," he replied, and entered her.

Jean moaned, wrapping her arms around him.

"Oh, God, Gordon!" she moaned. "Oh, yes, yes!"

"Jean, Jean, my darling, darling, Jean!" he yelled. "Yes, Jean!"

She climaxed, holding him tightly to her, and he joined her, allowing his weight to rest on top of her.

Jean stroked his hair as he nuzzled her neck.

"I love you, Gordon," Jean whispered. She did love him – not as much as he loved her, but close enough.

"And I love you," he replied, kissing her on the lips. "Happy birthday, my darling."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you," she whispered. They lay there, limbs entangled, his head resting against hers, and fell asleep.

In real life, Jean woke up as the sun streamed through the windows. Edward was getting dressed, but he turned to her when he heard her stir.

"Good morning, Jean," Edward said. She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed red. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said.

He looked at her a bit strangely. "You look flushed," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He stroked her cheek lightly.

"I'm a bit warm, I suppose," Jean said, getting out of bed. She got dressed, then turned back to her husband. "Ready for breakfast?" she asked, and he nodded. They walked downstairs. Jean pulled him aside for a moment before they could enter the dining room.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing him on the lips.

He smiled down at her. "I love you, too."

They then went into the dining room, joining Gordon and Heather for breakfast.

Later that afternoon, Edward and Jean went for a walk on the beach.

"Edward," Jean began. "Do you think that we could move back to Edinburgh, so that we could be closer to the boys and our grandchild?"

He smiled down at her. "I was going to suggest that to you, my dear," he said. "Of course we can. We can start looking for a home right away."

"Thank you," Jean said, smiling up at him.

"Of course, darling," Edward said, caressing her cheek.

"I can't believe that we're going to be grandparents," Jean said.

"Nor can I," Edward said.

"I can't believe that our children are all grown up... it seems like just yesterday that they were born." Jean had always referred to her children as "their" children, for while Edward was not their biological father, he certainly was more of a father to them than Teddy had ever been.

"Time has gone by so quickly," Edward agreed.

She smiled up at him once more. "I love you, Edward."

"I love you too, Jean," he said, and they began to walk back to Cramond.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie. Thanks are due to kissofdeath for helping me out with this chapter.

* * *

Jean and Edward began looking for a house to purchase, finally deciding on a small two-bedroom house in the heart of old Edinburgh, a few blocks from where she and Teddy had lived when they were first married. It needed quite a bit of redecorating, so they continued to reside with Heather and Gordon. After they purchased their house, they sent a telegram to Douglas and Bridget McFadden, informing them of their impending move. Jean would miss them terribly – she and Bridget had become very close over the past few years. But she did want to be near her children and her grandchild.

After their grandchild was born, Edward and Jean would fly back to Australia, pack up their things, then take a ship back to Edinburgh. Their house would be ready by then. They still had two months to wait for their grandchild to be born.

Late one night, a week after Jean and Edward had purchased their new house, Heather and Gordon were in bed, making love. After they climaxed, Heather lay wrapped in her husband's arms.

"I love you, Gordon," Heather whispered, rubbing his chest lightly.

His eyes were closed as he stroked her hair. "I love you, Jean," he replied.

Heather sat straight up in bed. "Jean?" she asked, scooting away from him. "Why did you say that, Gordon?" she demanded.

Gordon sat up too. "Heather, I didn't mean it," he said, reaching out for her. She backed away from him.

"I thought that you loved me, Gordon," Heather said, beginning to cry. "I thought that you didn't love her anymore."

"I do love you," Gordon said. "I love you so much, Heather."

"I notice that you didn't say you don't love her," she spat that word out, "anymore."

Gordon dropped his eyes, then raised them. "I love you, Heather," he said. "I do."

"I thought that you were no longer in love with her," Heather said. "I can see that I was wrong. Has our marriage really been a lie?"

"No, of course not, darling," he said, reaching out to caress her cheek. She pulled back once again.

"Can you look me in the eyes and say that?" she asked.

"I love you, Heather," he said, looking into his wife's eyes.

"Tell me that you don't love her anymore," Heather demanded.

"I don't love her anymore," Gordon said, not looking into her eyes.

"You do," she whispered. She got out of bed and wrapped herself in her dressing gown.

"I'm going to the guest room, and I don't want you to join me, Gordon," Heather said. "I need to think."

He watched her leave, then stood up. He went to his closet and pulled down a small cedar box, opening it. He took out a pile of photographs, all of them of Jean. He went back to bed, crawling between the covers. He then slowly went through the pile.

The first photograph was of Jean sitting on the verandah, reading a book. He had snapped the picture just as she looked up at him, smiling. He traced her features with a gentle finger. Setting that photograph aside, he picked up the next one.

Jean was lying in bed, wearing a rather skimpy negligee. She was smiling seductively at him, her blonde hair tousled becomingly, the negligee revealing her well-shaped legs. Jean was holding a sprig of mistletoe in her delicate fingers. He remembered that day – the first Christmas they had spent together. She had given him a lovely antique gold pocket watch, one that he still wore to this day. He had given her a pair of sapphire earrings and a matching necklace. Jean had kissed him passionately.

"I have another present for you, Gordon," she said, smiling at him. "Give me ten minutes, then come up to the bedroom." She gave him one last smile before walking up the stairs.

He waited quite impatiently, watching the time tick by on his new watch. Finally the ten minutes were up, and he bounded up the steps to his bedroom. Opening the door, he was greeted with the most beautiful sight he had ever seen – Jean Brodie, resting atop the sheets, wearing a revealing white silk negligee. She looked gorgeous – leaning against the propped up pillows, Jean's golden hair shone in the dim light. She was holding sprig of mistletoe.

"Oh, Jean," Gordon breathed, standing still, trying to burn that sight in his memory forever. "Oh, my darling." He approached her slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I never want to forget this moment, Jean," he said. "You are so beautiful."

"Why don't you get the camera?" she suggested. "That way you'll always have a picture of this time – this time when I love you and you love me."

He nodded and went downstairs once more to get the camera. When he returned, he snapped the picture, then abandoned the camera on the dresser in favour of making love to the beautiful woman in his bed.

The next photograph that he turned to was of them in London. It was raining, so she was nestled in his arms. He had wrapped his raincoat around her, protecting her from the rain. They had had the doorman of their hotel – they had stayed at the Savoy – take the picture of them. Jean was looking up at him, smiling, her golden hair wet, rain streaming down her face. He was smiling down at her too, a drop of water settling at the end of his nose. After that picture had been taken, they had returned to their suite. Jean had insisted that they both take a long, hot bath, as they were soaked to the skin. And after their bath, they had snuggled under the covers of the bed and had made love.

They had registered as husband and wife when they stayed at the Savoy, Gordon remembered. And he had so desperately wanted to be her husband, yet she refused him. She didn't want to get married yet, she had said, marriage would only mean that she would have to give up her teaching. And they were living as though they were married, anyway – she cooked for him, kept his house tidy, and shared his bed. The only thing they lacked to make this a marriage, Jean had often said, was a ring. And she refused to accept his ring, refused to accept his proposals, refused to make their relationship officially a marriage. But when they travelled together, they always registered as husband and wife, and Gordon was quite content to pretend.

The next picture was one that he had taken of Jean on her birthday, the first year they had spent together. They had taken a walk on the beach, walking hand-in-hand for the beginning. She had the urge to run into the water – just up to her ankles – so she dropped his hand and kicked off her shoes. Standing in the surf, she had turned to him, laughing, just as he snapped that picture of her.

Jean was such a wonderful person, a marvellous lover, and so, so beautiful. He had loved her with all his heart – still loved her so much. He couldn't help himself – even though she had never loved him as much as he had loved her, he still loved her.

He turned to the next photograph, which was of Jean sitting in his lap, resting her head against his chest. They had used the automatic timer on his camera in order to take that picture. Even twenty years later, he remembered how it felt to have Jean's body cradled in his arms, remembered what her kisses tasted like, remembered what her voice had sounded like as she moaned his name.

But he loved his wife, too – they had made such a comfortable life for themselves and their daughter. Life with Heather was safe, predictable – but also a bit boring. She was utterly conventional – in work, in life, in bed... She liked the things that she knew, and she was not at all adventurous – not like Jean.

He was a quiet person too, and boring, he supposed, by Jean's standards. Now that he knew why she had stayed with him for so long, it made sense. Especially during the last months of their relationship, he had had the feeling that he was boring her. He never was enough for her, though he had tried – that was why she hadn't loved him enough to marry him.

Gordon was tired, so he collected the photographs and put them away in his closet once more, not wanting Heather to see them. He needed his wife back – he loved her (well, not as much as he loved Jean), and he didn't want her to leave him, especially as he knew that she wouldn't leave Edward for him. He had had his chance at a relationship with Jean, but she hadn't loved him enough to marry him. At least they had had four wonderful years together.

He would still love her forever, but he knew that her love for him had disappeared twenty years ago, when he had cast her aside for Heather. It had been his choice, and he would stick to his decision. Making up his mind, he padded softly down the hallway to the guest room where his wife was. The light was still on, and he knocked on the door.

"Gordon, if that's you, I don't want to talk to you," said his wife.

"Heather, please," Gordon begged him. He heard her sigh, then heard footsteps walk to the door. The lock turned, and his wife opened the door.

"What do you want, Gordon?" Heather asked him bluntly. Her face was streaked with tears.

"Can I come in, please, Heather?" he asked, and she nodded reluctantly. He stepped inside and she closed the door behind him.

"What do you want?" she asked him again.

"Heather, I won't lie to you and tell you that I don't love Jean Brodie anymore – I do. But I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, Heather – I love you so much," Gordon said.

"Oh, Gordon," she sighed. "Is that true – you'd rather spend the rest of your life with me rather than with her?"

"Yes, it is," Gordon said, and though it wasn't true, he lied, looking her straight in the eyes. He needed her to believe him, for he did love her.

She smiled, her face lighting up. She had needed to hear him say that he loved her, because she loved him so much. She did not know what she would do without him.

"Oh, I love you, Gordon," Heather said, wrapping her arms around him.

"I love you too, Heather," he replied, bending down to kiss her. "Let's go back to bed, hmm?" he suggested, and she nodded. They quietly walked back to their bedroom and fell asleep.

Unsurprisingly, relations between Heather and Jean became strained, though Jean did not know what to attribute that to. She suspected Gordon had let something slip about their past relationship. Thankfully, she had told Edward everything about her past affairs, so she did not have to worry about Heather telling Edward about them, if that was indeed what it was about.

Jean had been open with Edward from the beginning of their relationship, something that she was grateful for now. Gordon obviously had not been as open with Heather as she had been with Edward.

Yes, things had become very uncomfortable between Jean and Heather.

Finally, finally, their grandchild was born. After twelve hours of labour, Helen Lockhart Lowther gave birth to a baby girl, whom they named Heather Jean Lloyd. She was beautiful, with brown hair and blue eyes. They had the baby christened at Cramond Kirk, and, after the christening, Jean and Edward flew back to Australia.

It took the Lloyds three weeks to pack up their things, even with Douglas and Bridget's help. But, while Jean wanted to return to Edinburgh, to her children and to her baby granddaughter, she did not want to see Heather Lowther for a long time. Hopefully this separation would help Heather get over her unresolved issues with Jean.

And Jean did not want to leave Bridget and Douglas behind – they had been good friends for the past five years. But Edinburgh was her home, though it had changed so much.

Finally it was time for Edward and Jean to leave for Edinburgh. They had sold their house in Sydney and were renting out their other home in Australia. Douglas and Bridget drove them to the dock to say goodbye. They promised to visit at least once every two years.

So Edward and Jean boarded the ship that would bring them to Edinburgh. During the next three weeks, Jean and Edward spent all of their time together, much of it in their rooms. They also took long walks around deck, talking.

Jean spent a lot of time writing letters as well. She and Jenny, her former student, had kept up a steady correspondence ever since they met each other once more on the ship to Edinburgh about twenty years ago. Jenny and her husband and daughter had come to visit quite often, but once their daughter Jean had begun school, it was no longer practical for them to come to visit. But Edinburgh was far closer to London than Australia was, so Jean would be able to see her far more often. And Monica Maclaren, another of her former 'Brodie girls', lived there too – she was still an actress with the Royal Court Theatre. Jean was looking forward to seeing them both again.

And she made up her mind to go to the nunnery and see Sandy Stranger, the girl who had betrayed her, again. She had written a book of psychology, called "The Transfiguration of the Commonplace", which Jean had read. It was about her. Jean felt compelled to go visit her, to get some closure at long last. The nunnery was not too far outside of Edinburgh and, as soon as they arrived, Jean would go.

Jean had often wondered what it was about her that caused so much chaos. She had no clue what it was in her that inspired men to love her and women to hate her – well, most women, at least. Not Jenny, nor Monica, nor Bridget McFadden; nor, surprisingly, Deirdre. But Heather despised her, as did Sandy, as did all of her female colleagues from Marcia Blaine – especially Miss Mackay. Perhaps Sandy could give her some insight on what it was that made women hate her so much.

When they arrived in Edinburgh, Jean and Edward set up their new home. The decorators and contractors had finished, so all they had to do was arrange their furniture. It still took them a week to finish moving in.

Once they had finished arranging their furniture, Jean drove into the country to see Sandy, or Sister Helena of the Transfiguration, as she was now known, at the nunnery. When she arrived, she was shown to the visitor's room. She had not given her name, but had requested to see Sister Helena. After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened, and Sandy entered the room. She stopped dead when she saw her visitor.

"Hello, Sandy," Jean said calmly, remaining utterly composed. Sandy looked so much older than she had the last time Jean had seen her – age had been much less kind to Sandy than it had been to Jean. The bit of Sandy's hair that emerged from her wimple, that hair which used to be as black as ink, was now heavily streaked with grey. Even at the age of fifty nine, Jean's hair was still blonde, with only a few white hairs. Sandy was only thirty eight years old, but she looked Jean's age.

"What are you doing here?" Sandy asked.

"I came to see you, Sandy," Jean said. Sandy sank into a chair.

"Why?" she whispered.

"I know that it was you who threw that rock through the window, hoping to kill me," Jean began. "And I know that it was you who tried to kill Teddy by setting our house on fire. Why, Sandy?" she asked. "Why do I inspire such hate in you?"

Sandy shook her head. "I was in love with you, Jean," she whispered. Jean's eyes widened.

"Oh, Sandy," Jean said, utterly shocked.

"I was so unhappy, so utterly unhappy, and I wanted you to suffer for that. I hated that you were happy!" Sandy began to cry, and Jean stood up, wrapping Sandy in her embrace.

"Oh, my dear," Jean whispered, resting her head against Sandy's. "I am so sorry."

Finally Sandy got control of her emotions, and Jean sat back down in her seat.

"Why did you never tell me?" Jean asked her, compassion written in every line of her face.

"I couldn't," Sandy whispered, looking down at her folded hands which were resting in her lap. "I couldn't bear your rejection."

"Oh, Sandy," Jean sighed. "You should have told me."

"You would have rejected me," she whispered.

"But I would have helped you work through it," Jean said.

Sandy met Jean's eyes, which were full of sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Jean," Sandy whispered.

"It's all right, Sandy," Jean replied. She stood up. "I should go," she said, and Sandy nodded.

"Thank you for coming, Jean," Sandy replied, wiping away tears.

"You're welcome," Jean replied.

"Will – will you come again?" Sandy asked, sounding lost and helpless.

"If you'd like," Jean replied.

"I'd like for you to come," Sandy admitted. Jean smiled.

"I'll bring my husband next time – he was fascinated by your book," Jean said.

"Teddy?" Sandy asked.

Jean shook her head sadly. "Teddy died several years ago. I'm now married to his cousin, Edward," Jean said.

"Oh," was all that Sandy could say. "And your child?"

"Teddy and I had two children," Jean replied. "Duncan and William. Duncan is now married to Gordon Lowther's daughter."

Sandy chuckled, laughing for the first time in years. "That's quite ironic," Sandy said in between giggles.

"It is, isn't it?" Jean said, beginning to giggle herself.

"Thank you for coming, Jean," Sandy said again, once they had both stopped laughing.

"Of course," Jean replied. "I'll see you soon." Jean left, looking back once more at Sandy. As Sandy smiled back at her, she could see the young girl who had once been in her care.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

* * *

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie. This is the last chapter, though there will be an epilogue.

* * *

While Jean and Edward reacquainted themselves with Edinburgh, Heather cleaned her house from top to bottom, wanting to purge the house of the presence of Jean Brodie, the woman who still held her husband's heart. She even cleaned rooms that she knew Jean had not been in during this visit – but, for all she knew, Jean could have been there before. She wanted absolutely every particle of Jean Brodie to be erased from their house.

While cleaning their closet, Heather came across a cedar box on top of one of her husband's shelves. Curious, she picked up the box and opened it. It was full of photographs, all of Jean Brodie.

Absolutely horrified, but unable to look away, Heather Lowther looked through the photographs. There was one of Jean reading; one of her in nothing but a negligee; spread across their bed – THEIR BED! – Jean on the beach; Jean and her husband snuggled up together, his raincoat wrapped lovingly around her; Jean sitting in her husband's lap; Jean and Gordon standing by a Christmas tree... Jean, Jean, Jean! They were all of Jean – that wretched woman. Heather had been indifferent to her when they taught at Marcia Blaine together, but now she hated her. She had bewitched her husband, stolen his heart, and Heather despised her.

She ran downstairs, where her husband was playing the piano, clutching the photographs. She threw them violently at him.

"You lied to me, you bastard!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. Gordon picked up the pictures and his face went pale when he realised what they were.

"I didn't lie to you, Heather," Gordon said.

"Then what the bloody hell are these?" Heather cried, brandishing the photographs.

"They're just mementoes," Gordon said, standing up from the piano bench, approaching his wife.

"An entire box full of pictures of Jean Brodie?" she shouted.

"I told you that I still loved her," Gordon said. "But I love you, too," he continued. "I do, I love you, Heather."

"Then why do you still have pictures of that... that bitch?"

"Because I loved her," Gordon said. "Because we had four wonderful years together. But, Heather – I love you, and what we have cannot compare to what Jean and I had," Gordon said. It was true – what they had was safe, reliable; what he and Jean had had was exciting, bold.

"I want you to get rid of these photographs," Heather said, taking deep breaths to keep from getting hysterical. "I want you to drive over to HER house tomorrow and give her the photographs. Make sure that Edward is there. I want him to know about your affair with Jean – every detail of it. I want him to know what his slut of a wife got up to before they were married. And I promise you, if I ever find ANY pictures of her in this house again, I will leave you."

"All right," Gordon agreed. He didn't want to give his photographs of Jean away – they were all he had left, besides his memories, of those magnificent four years. But he would give Jean the photographs in order to keep his wife happy – he didn't know what he would do without her.

The next day, Gordon drove over to Jean and Edward's house. Jean opened the door.

"Good morning, Gordon," Jean said, surprised to see him.

"Good morning, Jean," Gordon said nervously. "May I come in?"

"Of course," Jean said, stepping back from the door. He entered her house, clutching his box of photographs. She led him to the parlour, where Edward was reading the newspaper. He looked up.

"Good morning, Gordon," Edward said. "What brings you here?"

"Heather found these, Jean," Gordon said, handing Jean the box. "She wants me to give them to you. And, Edward," Gordon said, turning to Jean's husband.

"Yes?"

"She wants me to tell you that Jean and I had an affair from 1932 to 1936," Gordon finished.

"I know," Edward replied calmly.

"You know?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes. Jean told me," he said, looking over at his wife, who was holding the small cedar box on her lap. She returned his gaze, smiling slightly at him.

"Oh," was all that Gordon could say. "Well, that's all, then," he said, turning to leave.

"I'll not come round for a while then, shall I?" Jean suggested, and Gordon turned back around, a grateful smile on his face.

"That would be for the best, I believe," he said. "Thank you, Jean."

She returned his smile, and he left their house.

Jean then opened the box, revealing all those pictures of her, the ones that had been taken so many years ago by Gordon.

"Oh, my goodness," Jean breathed, taking them out of the box.

There were so many pictures, some of them of her and Gordon – in London, the rain soaking them both to the skin, snuggled up in his lap, standing in front of his Christmas tree; and dozens of pictures of her alone, only a few of which she had copies of already – her on the beach, reading a book, spread out across his bed seductively, a sprig of mistletoe in her hand ("Why don't you get the camera?" she had suggested. "That way you'll always have a picture of this time – this time when I love you and you love me."), standing in the kitchen of his estate, sleeping on the couch... Jean looked up at her husband.

"What are they?" Edward asked.

"Pictures... of me," Jean said. "I can't believe he's kept them all these years..."

"You kept all of his letters and the pictures of you and him," Edward said.

"Yes, but not consciously. I mean, they were sitting in my flat for over twenty years – it wasn't as though I brought them with me to Australia. I had forgotten about them, you know. But this... he obviously still cherished them."

"And who wouldn't cherish something that reminded him of you?" Edward said, caressing her cheek. "Jean, you are everything that a man could want – gorgeous, intelligent... you have so many virtues that it is impossible to list them all. You are a dream come true for any man," he said.

Jean abandoned the photographs, choosing instead to kiss her husband passionately.

"I love you," she whispered as her lips brushed against his.

"And I love you, Jean," he replied. "I'm so glad that you are my wife."

"As am I," she whispered. "As am I."

* * *

True to her word, Jean stayed away from Cramond, spending much of her time with her new grandchild – when she was sure that Heather would not be there. But one day when she was taking care of the baby while her son and daughter-in-law were out, Heather stopped by.

"Where's Helen?" Heather asked Jean, who was cradling the baby in her arms.

"They're out for the day," Jean said cordially. "Would you like to come in?"

Heather looked torn – on one hand, she wanted to spend time with her granddaughter; on the other hand, she did NOT want to spend time with Jean.

"All right," Heather agreed, and stepped into the house.

"I need to bring Heather – the baby, I mean – up for her nap," Jean said. "I'll be down in a moment."

Heather nodded, not wanting to speak to her. Jean walked up the stairs to the nursery and tucked her granddaughter into her crib. Heather fell asleep almost immediately – she was a very easy baby, just as Duncan had been. Jean then went downstairs to join Heather.

"Would you like some tea, Heather?" Jean asked politely.

"Jean, I'd like to talk to you," Heather said, ignoring the question. Jean nodded, sitting down in an armchair, and braced herself. She suspected that this would be about her former love affair with Gordon.

"Did Gordon give you back the pictures?" Heather asked.

"Yes, he did," Jean said.

"And did he tell Edward about your affair?" she asked Jean.

"Yes – not that it mattered. Edward had already known about all my previous relationships," Jean said.

"How did he know?" Heather asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I told him," Jean said.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted him to know who I was – my history has shaped who I am, and he deserved to know my past," Jean replied.

"Oh," Heather said.

"I'm sorry that Gordon never told you about our relationship," Jean said.

"So am I," Heather said. "Who began your relationship?" she asked Jean.

"I did," Jean admitted.

"And who ended it?"

"He did," she said. "To marry you. He does love you, Heather."

"Then why did he still have photographs of you?" Heather demanded.

"For the same reason that I still have his letters," Jean said. "We were in love for a time – four years – and I look back upon that time with fondness. I'm sure that he does as well. But it's over now – it's been over for nearly thirty years. They are just memories, Heather," Jean said. "They don't mean that he doesn't love you – he does."

"But he admitted to loving you still," Heather said.

"And I love him still – but I'm not IN love with him anymore," Jean said. "He's in love with you, Heather, and he needs you so much."

Heather smiled softly. "Really?" she asked.

"Yes, really," Jean said.

"Thank you, Jean," Heather said.

"You're welcome," Jean replied.

After their talk, Heather was not nearly so hostile to Jean anymore, though they were still not friends. Jean didn't believe that they'd ever be friends. But at least Heather was civil to her again, and that was all that Jean could ask for.

Though Heather was now civil to Jean, Jean stayed away from Cramond as much as possible. She did not want Heather to get angry at her again. Instead, Jean went to London to visit Jenny and Monica, Edward accompanying her.

Jean had wanted to surprise Monica, so she did not let her know that she was coming. She and Jenny purchased tickets for Monica's newest show – she was playing Aline Solness alongside Laurence Olivier's Solness in Henrik Ibsen's "The Master Builder". Jenny had told Monica that she would be stopping by after the show, but had not told Monica that Jean would be there too.

After the show, Jean and Jenny went backstage to Monica's dressing room. Knocking on the door, it was opened almost immediately by Monica. She didn't see Jean right away, as Jean was standing behind Jenny.

"Hello, Jenny," Monica said, embracing her friend. She looked over Jenny's shoulder and saw Jean.

"Miss Brodie?" she gasped, and Jean nodded.

"Hello, Monica," Jean said.

"Oh, Miss Brodie!" Monica exclaimed, hugging her.

"Call me Jean, dear," she told Monica. "You were wonderful tonight," she said.

"Thank you," Monica said. "Won't you come in?" Jean nodded, and she and Jenny stepped in to Monica's dressing room.

They chatted as Monica changed out of her costume.

"I'd like to take you both out to dinner," Jean said. "My husband would like to meet you, Monica."

"All right," Monica agreed. They went to Claridge's, where Jean and Edward were staying, for dinner. Edward was waiting for them in the hotel restaurant – he had not accompanied Jean to the theatre in order to give her some time alone with her former students.

Dinner went very well, and Jean and Monica were able to catch up on the past thirty years. Though Jean and Edward would be leaving the next morning, she promised to come back to London soon to see both of her girls.

"It was wonderful to see you, Monica," Jean said, giving her a hug.

"You too, Jean," Monica replied.

"I'm so proud of you," Jean whispered, giving her former student a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Jean," Monica said, blushing.

"I'll see you soon, all right?"

"All right. Good night, Jean," Monica said, and she and Jenny left Claridge's.

Jean and her husband went upstairs to their room.

"Thank you for coming with me," Jean said as her husband changed into his pyjamas.

"Of course, darling," he said, joining her in bed. "I enjoyed it.

"I'm glad," she replied, snuggling up to him. "Good night."

"Good night, Jean," he said, kissing her lightly. They drifted off to sleep.


	21. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

The very last chapter in what has been my longest piece of work to date! Hope you all enjoy.

As always, dedicated to kissofdeath and KristaMarie.

* * *

A few years later, William graduated from St. Andrew's and took a job working as an assistant to Roland MacNab, the Member of Parliament for Edinburgh. His boss was quite kind to him, and treated him like a son. William advanced quite quickly, as he was a very diplomatic and kind person. And, while he was working for Roland, William fell in love with his daughter Kathleen. After courting her for three years, William proposed to her, and they were married a year later.

During that time, Helen and Duncan had another child, a boy, whom they named Edward Gordon Lloyd. Duncan and Helen agreed that it was only fair that this time, Duncan's family name should come first. Heather was slightly upset, thinking that it had been Jean's idea to honour her own husband rather than Heather's husband, but Jean had had nothing to do with it – it had been Helen's idea.

William and his bride had two children as well, both girls, whom they named Margaret Natalie and Judith Olivia. They settled in London, as William's work was based there.

Jean and Heather never did become friends, as Heather remained jealous of Jean all the years of her life. They got along well enough, for the sake of their children and grandchildren, though they never enjoyed each other's company.

In 1969, when Jean was nearly seventy and Edward was eighty-five, the train they were travelling on from London to Edinburgh crashed, a result of brake failure. They were both killed instantly. Everyone was devastated.

At their funeral, dozens of people came – her family, former students, Douglas and Bridget McFadden, Deirdre and her children... it was amazing to see how many people's lives had been touched by that one extraordinary woman.

In her will, she left her worldly goods to her two sons, their wives, and her grandchildren, aside from a few small bequests to her girls (Monica, Jenny, and Sandy), Bridget McFadden, Deirdre, Heather, and Gordon.

She specified one particular thing in her will: that the manuscript her husband had written, entitled "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie", be published. And it was.

* * *

Five years after her death, Heather visited Jean's grave, placing a small bouquet of roses by her tombstone.

"Jean Margaret Brodie Lloyd," it read. "Loving wife, loving mother. O Flower of Scotland, When will we see your like again?"

Edward's gravestone was next to hers, simply reading: "Edward William Lloyd. Loving husband, loving father."

"I'm sorry, Jean," Heather whispered, staring at her grave. She stood there for a few moments longer before turning away. It had taken her nearly forty years for her to forgive the woman who had had such a hold on her husband's heart, but finally she was able to let go and move on.

It began to rain, the raindrops making dark splotches on Heather's coat, but still she stared at Jean's gravestone. Finally, however, she turned and left the cemetery, driving back to Cramond. She went to the bedroom she shared with her husband and opened the letter that had been left to her by Jean.

"Dear Heather," it began. "I am sorry to have caused you so much pain for so long. I never meant to steal Gordon's affections from you, and I am sorry that I did. But know that he does love you, and that is why he chose you over me. I wish that we could have been friends, Heather, but it wasn't meant to be. I'm sorry, once again.

Sincerely,

Jean Brodie Lloyd."

Heather then opened the package that Jean had left to her, revealing a beautiful sapphire necklace and matching pair of earrings. There was a note enclosed.

"Gordon gave these to me many years ago, but I know that he always meant for the woman he loves – you – to have them."

Heather began to cry. She had misjudged Jean, and she would never get the chance to tell her so. She had been so stupid all those years, allowing jealous to corrupt her view of Jean's character. But now, five years after Jean's death, she was able to realise that Jean had been a kind, loving person, despite her many flaws.

"I'm sorry, Jean," Heather whispered again. She folded up the letter to put it back in the envelope. Before she could put the letter away, some writing caught her eye.

"I forgive you," it read, in Jean's neat script. Heather smiled softly.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you."

THE END


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